L4D Saga of Humanity
by xmodius
Summary: The four survivors are heading to the Mercy hospital roof. Along the way, Louis reveals a personal confession, and the group discovers the battle for survival isn't as black and white as it seems. Louis X "?". Rated M for language and lemon.
1. Finding Mercy

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Left 4 Dead, they belong to Valve. However, I do own the character Angela Willingham.

A/N: Please review, it's good for my ego. Anonymous reviews welcome, so if you want the next chapter, tell me how good/bad it is. Note: Flames with no merit will be used to wipe my butt.

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_Chapter 1 – Finding Mercy_

The four survivors stealthily approached the Mercy Hospital Emergency entrance, taking up positions on the sides of the glass double doors. Weapons at the ready, the team prepared to enter what they hoped would be the last bastion of the zombie apocalypse before the sweet release of a chopper pickup on the roof. With a nod from the Bill, the four shuffled through the doors and scanned the lobby for any signs of the infected. Bill and Francis took point, while Louis and Zoey brought up the rear.

The entire hospital reeked from decay and one could breathe in the coppery taste of the blood that adorned the halls and various rooms. The once sterile air was now riddled with the stench of death and suffering.

"Doesn't seem to be anyone here," Louis said as he nervously looked around the lobby through the scope of his M-16. The young African American man always wanted to try his hand at a shooting range, maybe something simple like a Beretta or other 9mm, just for the thrill and to let off some the steam that built up as a junior systems analyst. Not in a million years did he dream he'd have as much practice shooting in a few hours than most hobbyists would get in their lifetime. There were things one never learned at a shooting range, like how to keep your cool when the cardboard cutouts suddenly ran at you with blood-thirsty rage, or how to pistol-whip the ones that got a little too close to one's personal space. Had anyone told him he'd be firing handguns akimbo at mobs of crazed cannibalistic human beings, he would have asked what pills they were on and could he get some for those _really_ tough days?

"Cut the chatter Louis," Bill said gruffly to the dark-skinned suit, cigarette half hanging from his lips. In all his years as a soldier, between the Korean and Vietnam wars, the aged war veteran had never been prepared for the carnage he'd witnessed in the last several hours. However, as enemies went, these crazed infected were a walk in the park compared to the Vietcong. They didn't return fire, and they didn't set up traps… well most of them anyway. Most of them were also too enraged to concern themselves with dodging bullets. However, there were those "special infected" or SI, which had a knack for keeping out of sight until the most inopportune moment for the survivors. It seemed that the SI's were about setting up ambushes, and this made sticking together as a team and keeping _quiet_, all the more important to survival.

Francis looked around the lobby. _"This place looks worse than Mickey's Bar on a Saturday night,"_ he thought to himself. There were bodies and blood splatters everywhere, along with destroyed desks, broken glass and the occasional small fire slowly consuming one of the many makeshift barricades in the various adjacent hallways. His ears were perked for the growls of a Hunter, one of the worst SI's to deal with without some comrades watching your back. The tough biker had been pounced twice by the sneaky bastards; luckily his teammates were quick on the draw before he was eviscerated on the spot. For his ego, this was payback time. _"Next S.O.B. that leaps for me is gonna get a shell right between the eyes!"_ he thought.

Zoey wiped the sweat from her brow with her sleeve and adjusted the 6.8M caliber hunting rifle strapped across her back. Zoey had grown up on a farm, and was used to using a rifle to pick off gophers or to bring down deer for dinner, so the weapon was a fine choice. She was the first one in her family to go to college, and her parents hoped that being raised on a farm wouldn't make the city and college life seem too glamorous. Unfortunately, her grades slipped as she was caught up in having fun and watching all the horror flicks that were essentially all but banned from her parents household. She'd always loved horror movies, especially about zombies, and had always dreamed to star in one. Of course, the "extras" in this little "movie" really got into their "roles", and she'd been reminded of that more than once that there was no "take two" when narrowly escaping the grasp of a Smoker's tongue, or dodging a Boomer's bile spew in the nick of time. Looking back on it, the young college girl would probably never be able to watch another horror movie for the rest of her days. _"Lord, if we survive this, I swear I'll never skip out on Sunday mass ever again!"_ she thought to herself. Her quiet prayer was barely out of her mind when a sound froze her in her tracks, the all too familiar growl of a Hunter.

"Hunter," she said quietly. "Sounds like it's near the left corridor way in the back."

"This one's mine," Francis said with slight menacing edge.

Louis snorted. If one could mark a potential kill by calling it as easily as a dog marked its territory, Francis would have peckers coming out of his mouth. "Yeah don't get too cocky buddy," he retorted. "We wouldn't want to have to shoot yet another-"

His remark was cut short by the hunter's signature shriek. It had snuck through a hole in the wall of an adjacent room and sprang out to surprise Louis. His weapons were knocked from his hands as the hunter pounced and began clawing at him.

"Get it off! Get it off me!" Louis yelled, before a single shot rang out. Then hunter fell over on its side as Louis scrambled to retrieve his weapons. He looked over to see Zoey, her rifle pointed in his direction with a hint of smoke tracing off the barrel.

"Nice head shot, Zoey" Bill said, staring at the bloody hole in the hunter's forehead. "Would've felt a lot safer having you watch my back in 'Nam." Zoey blushed a little at Bill's compliment while Francis smirked at Louis for his little comment being cut short with such irony.

"Hope you shoot better than you talk smack, sissy." Francis said with a cocky grin, goading Louis who was busy reloading his pistols.

Louis had no retort however. Looking around the hospital caused a very painful memory to surface in his mind. His fiancé, whom he had been unable to contact for the last two weeks, was a doctor at Mercy Hospital. She had been working double and sometimes triple shifts to treat patients and study this strange, deadly pathogen hoping to find a cure. Despite Louis' warnings to get someplace safe, she steadfastly refused to abandon the patients that were coming in faster than the ones being carted down to the morgue.

_----_

_  
"Louis I can't leave! I have a duty to these people and I will help them!" She said in exasperation, turning her head back to her notes. Her heels clacking on the linoleum was the only distracting sound in the room. She could hear her heartbeat racing in her head and desperately needed some aspirin or even a Valium to settle her nerves. Louis, wanting to calm her and try to talk some sense, approached her. Walking up to her left, he moved her shoulder length blond hair aside to see his beloved's face. Her beautiful yet pale face screamed out exhaustion and frustration. He hated when she ran herself into the ground._

"_Angela, you're insane to stay here! You've seen on the news what happens to these people. What if one of them breaks their restraints? It will be total chaos! You'll never make it out of here! Please, just come with me! We need to get out of the city now!"_

"_Louis," Angela said in a shaky voice, taking her reading glasses off to wipe a tear from her green eyes. "Wait for me. Please. I'm so close to a treatment, if not a cure! Just give me a week. If by then there's no turning this around, I promise to come home."_

_Louis blinked for a moment as some light was reflected into his eyes by the shiny ID badge on her lab coat. "She looks good even in her hospital ID photo," he thought. Looking into her eyes, for what he thought would be the last time, he finally agreed. He'd known Angela for nearly two years, and there was no changing her mind when she had it set on something, especially her work as a doctor._

"_Ok," Louis said, begrudgingly. "But you call me every day! If I don't hear from you, I'm coming to get you!"_

"_Ok sweet pea." He knew she'd call him that. It was her way of calming him when he was upset. He leaned into her for a tender kiss, stifling back an urge to cry. They held each other closely, Angela's tears running down her cheeks. She loved Louis with all her heart, but she swore an oath as a doctor to do everything she possibly could for the sake of humanity. Louis turned to leave, waving goodbye to his fiancé. The last thing he saw was her tear-stricken face as the office door slowly closed._

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"Louis? Louis, are you ok?" Zoey asked, concern on her face.

Louis shook his head for a moment to clear the very painful memory from his mind. With a heavy sigh, he replied, "Yeah I'm fine. It's just that… my fiancé was a doctor here." The other three looked at him in surprise; he'd never mentioned anything about this until just now. Then again, it wasn't like the group had much "quality time" to get to know each other better.

"Her name was… _is,_ Angela. She stayed to help with the sick and to try and find a cure." Tears were beginning to run down his clean-shaven cheeks. "I called her several times but couldn't get through, due to all the mass panic cell phone traffic." He flung his long since dead cell phone across the lobby in frustration. "I went by her house, but there was no sign of her. God, she could be among the infected we're going to find here. If she was one of them… I," he looked at his gun, "… I don't know if I could…" and with that he sat down putting his hands in his face, unable to continue his gruesome thought.

Bill and Francis lowered their heads for a moment out of respect. Despite being "green" Louis was a good guy who would give you the shirt off his back in a heartbeat. Francis would pick on him, but that's just what Francis did in any difficult situation. Bill, for his part, knew that the mourning would have to wait until they were out of danger. Still a couple moments couldn't hurt… much. Zoey kneeled next to the systems analyst and placed an arm affectionately around his shoulders.

"Louis," she said softly, staring into his deep brown eyes as he looked up at her, "Do you want us to… to check some of the bodies we find for Angela's ID? You know, for the chance that you might get some closure?"

"No" he replied quickly. "It would take too long, and we don't even know if she's here. Besides," he sniffed, looking away, "she'd kick my ass in the afterlife if I died trying to find her body instead of getting the hell outta dodge." The other three chuckled quietly at this. Zoey helped him to his feet and gave him a sisterly kiss on the cheek.

"Ok Louis. In that case, don't think about it anymore." Zoey pulled back the bolt on her rifle with a satisfying snap-click. "Let's just get out of here."

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A/N: This story is far from over. Please review as it is my first ever submission to fanfiction.


	2. Last Words

Disclaimer: As stated before, I don't own any characters except Angela. The rest belong to Valve. Also, I realize Valve called the virus a "mutated form of rabies" so they own that too, but the name "Myopic Rage" is my twisted idea. :-) They also own the fictional organization known as CEDA (Civil Emergency and Defense Agency). Enjoy and review!

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_Chapter 2 – Last Words _

The quartet of immune made their way through the maze of halls, dropping the occasional infected as they scanned rooms for supplies. Every so often they would run into a Hunter, Smoker, or Boomer, but the four were more than capable of taking them down without much trouble.

"Damn! Main access to the elevator is blocked!" Bill swore. There was a huge pile of furniture and other debris in front of the elevator, erected as a rather hastily-constructed barricade.

"We'll have to take the emergency stairs to get to an accessible level," Louis said. "The hospital is undergoing a lot of repairs, especially near the top floor, so watch out for makeshift floorboards and holes in the walls."

"I hate stairs," Francis remarked, "And hospitals."

"Francis," Bill started, "Next time you feel the need to break the silence, talk about something you don't hate."

"Okay." Francis smirked as he snuck up on an infected leaning against the corridor. "I don't hate _this_," he said, cracking the unwary infected in the back of the head. Bill just shook his head as the bloodied former human slumped to the floor.

The team made their way through the various corridors towards the stairs. Unfortunately the stairs had their own barricades blocking them from taking them straight to the top, so the team would have to cross the next floor and try the stairs on the other side.

As they approached a junction in the halls, a sudden shockwave went through the entire wing. Maniacal screams could be heard in the distance. The four readied their weapons, preparing for the fight.

"Horde's comin'," Francis mumbled as he readied his shotgun.

"Ready." Zoey said dryly. As if one could ever be fully prepared for this.

Bill said nothing, but took a deep drag on the now very short cigarette in his mouth.

"Incoming!" cried Louis as a huge mass of infected swarmed around the corner. Their insane shrieks and cries could barely be heard above the rumble of their running footsteps.

Zoey sniped at several while Bill and Louis attempted to slow the mob with their M-16's. Francis, thinking on his feet, decided to take the horde off theirs. In one quick motion he dropped to prone position and blasted the kneecaps of the first line of the horde. They fell like dominoes, the collapsed in front tripping up those right behind them. Bill and Louis wasted no time blasting the ones on the ground before they could get up. Zoey switched to her pistols, her rifle useless in a close firefight. Before she could crack her first shot, a Boomer charged over the common infected, vomiting bile all over the survivors.

"Ah shit! Son of a bitch!" Bill yelled as he blasted the boomer with a burst from the M-16. The disgusting creature exploded in a shower of gore, blasting them again with more disgusting bile. Zoey, anticipating the inevitable turned to see another screaming mass of infected running towards the survivors from the rear.

"Shit! Another horde! They're going to sandwich us!" she yelled as she began firing into the mass of the new threat.

"Man, fuck this!" Louis yelled as he readied a pipe bomb and hurled it towards the new horde, shouting "Grenade!" The stragglers from the first group were now focused on the beeping object that had been hurled down the hall. As they charged the survivors dove into some of the empty rooms to avoid being stomped.

BOOM! The hall shook from the explosion, and for a moment all was quiet, save for a few pieces of falling plaster. Zoey was the first to peek out from the rooms. She noticed a couple of infected were staggering around, having not been caught in the direct blast from the explosion. She quickly dispatched the stragglers with her handguns.

"Whew," Zoey sighed as she holstered her handguns. "Guys c'mon out, the coast i- hhurrrrk!" A smoker had peered 'round the corner, shooting his insanely long tongue out to snag Zoey around the neck. Her cries were choked off as the smoker's tongue began rapidly constricting her airway and dragging her away.

"Smoker's got Zoey!" Louis cried, bringing his M-16 to bear on the creature. His shot hit the smoker square in the mouth, causing it to die in a noxious puff of smoke. Zoey had barely removed the tongue from her neck when she started gagging on the Smoker's rancid death air. It smelled like a disgusting marriage of second hand smoke and aged bile.

As everyone finished cleaning the Boomer bile from their clothes, Louis noticed the wing of the hospital they ended up in. "Guys, this is the R&D section of Mercy Hospital!" he announced excitedly. "And that research room," he pointed toward an open room with the door partially ripped off the hinges, "is where Angela's desk is!"

"Your point?" Francis asked dryly.

"My point," Louis said with a hint of annoyance, "is Angela worked in R&D." Louis went over to her desk and began rummaging through some papers. "The last time we spoke she said she was searching for a treatment, possibly even a cure."

Looking around, the R&D area was as bad off if not worse than the rest of the hospital. Expensive lab equipment was trashed and scattered everywhere. Much of the furniture was piled next to the destroyed door, probably as a makeshift barricade that didn't work too well. One poor soul in scrubs, perhaps the last man to survive in this room lay in the middle of the floor in a pool of dried blood, his cranium smashed by a microscope.

"Something tells me she didn't find it," Francis said sarcastically. Francis was about to comment on the state of the room when Louis grabbed him by his vest and pinned him against the wall.

"You miserable son of a bitch!" Louis spat, getting right in the biker's face, his nose barely an inch away. "You fucking hate everything, don't you Francis? You can't stand to see any type of hope or happiness in another person without it making you sick, can you?" Louis was on a roll, but Francis rolled his eyes, thinking of this as just another temper tantrum by the "green" systems analyst. Undeterred, Louis continued "You know what? I think you're infected, because the only thing you don't seem to hate is killing. It's all one big gore party to you isn't it?" Francis was getting uncomfortable. This tantrum could go full blown ape-shit unless he put a stop to it right now.

He didn't have to. "Louis, take it easy." Bill said in a steady voice, his hand out in the classic "calm down" gesture. "We're not going to make it if we turn on each other." Louis looked back to Bill, then at Zoey, then at Francis. He snorted his dissatisfaction and let go of the pessimistic biker, who brushed it off acting as though it didn't bother him. Truth was though, he was a little unnerved.

"Anyway," Louis said, returning to his search, "she was working on a cure, and if I can find her notes, who knows… it may prove helpful in the right hands _when_ we get out of here." He said, directing the last few words at Francis. Bill and Zoey looked at each other and nodded.

"Well, there are no other bodies in here aside from that chap," Bill said, looking in the direction of the man without a skull cap. "No dead female doctors anyway."

Zoey interjected quickly, "We've got your back while you search, Louis. Oh and by the way," she said quietly, "thanks for saving me from that smoker."

"Don't mention it," Louis replied flatly, sitting at the desk. He was clearly interested in searching his lost love's work. Zoey sighed and joined Bill at the door, taking up a defensive position. "Damn. The computer is trashed, but if I know Angela, she kept hand written notes of everything. She never was one to fully trust computers." He chuckled to himself at that. Even though modern medicine depended on computer technology, Angela still insisted on paper copies of everything. The situation showed how important that was now.

Francis, bored with standing around, decided to look around the room for supplies. "Could use these," he said, grabbing some painkillers from a nearby countertop. Zoey and Bill were standing either side of the door, picking of the random straggling infected that shambled out of the various rooms.

Louis had gone through the various folders in the drawers. Most were Angela's patient's records and manuals on the lab equipment. As he opened the last drawer, he saw more patients' records. He sighed, believing his search had come up dry, but near the back was a crimson folder that was deliberately inserted cockeyed in the drawer. _"Seems like she wanted this to stand out,"_ he thought, his hands trembling slightly as he picked it up. Hand written across the label was the title: "Myopic Rage." Opening the folder with a held breath, Louis began scanning the pages, reading Angela's findings on the mutated rabies virus. The first few pages of notes were about initial symptoms: vomiting, fever, bloody expectoration etc. and scribbled notes about various patients that were confirmed positive for the virus. His eyes perked at the last couple pages. "They look like journal entries," he said to himself as he began to read…

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_Notes of Angela Willingham RE: MR-1_

_10/20/2009  
_

_Pathogen MR-1 (Mutated Rabies or Myopic Rage Virus)_

_The pathogen MR-1 (named by the Civil Emergency and Defense Agency or CEDA) operates by suppressing the brain's higher level functions and enhancing the more basic emotions society has taught us to suppress ourselves. Specifically, MR-1 greatly enhances feral rage by engorging the adrenaline glands above the kidneys and increasing the release of endorphins by attacking the pituitary and hypothalamus glands. This results in infected attacking with a blind rage while not feeling any sort of pain. In rare cases, MR-1 has been known to enlarge the pituitary gland by over 300%._

"That would explain the Tank." Louis whispered to no one in particular as he continued reading.

_Several patients have very low levels of serotonin and dopamine after a few days of infection from MR-1. This can lead to extreme depression and anxiety, and is likely another trigger for the onset of the rage as a means of escape. After all, if one is enraged, they're not often thinking about what has them depressed. I've seen other doctors refer to these patients as "zombies" but this is hardly the case. The infected are not mindless. Rather they are so blinded by their rage and/or misery that they forego any type of rational thought. The effects are so intense that it seems to cause memory loss and affects the ability to perform complex cognitive actions (e.g. the ability to speak coherently)._

_What is truly frightening however, are the physical mutations. One of my male patients had grown massive leg and arm muscle, enough that would allow him to leap at least four times that of a wolf. He exhibited bouts of aggression and insatiable hunger. He had a panic attack of sorts two days ago, broke his restraints, and escaped through an open window. This might not seem strange, except this office is on the third floor! When I went to see if he had survived the fall, there was no sign of him. _

_10/22/2009_

_A female patient admitted today is exhibiting other physical changes, the likes of which I've never seen: Hardening and discoloration (e.g. ashy grey) of the epidermis, a glowing yellow tinge to the eyes, and most frighteningly, fingernails as tough as claws that had grown to nearly four inches in what she claimed was a matter of several days. I personally doubt the accuracy of this claim, as she was sobbing nearly uncontrollably and screaming at us to leave her alone when I tried to question her further._

"Witch." Louis murmured under his breath, with an audible shudder. Turning to the last page, he was shocked to find a light spray pattern of blood, as though Angela had coughed on her notes. Angela's handwriting was also very shaky on this page, revealing the sense of urgency she must have felt when she wrote.

_10/26/2009_

_Things have taken a turn for the worse. The infected have overrun the hospital. I tried the phones, but all the lines are dead and the cellular phone networks are overloaded. I've locked the door, but I know it won't hold them off forever. One of my assistants finally succumbed to the infection and attacked me today. I had to bash him over the head to stop him, but not before he scratched me. More insane patients tried to break down the door. I managed to push some of the furniture against it, but I must hurry and finish my work before the infected break through. My efforts will not be in vain.  
_

_10/28/2009_

_Sadly, I don't have the lab equipment necessary to further study the mutagenic properties of MR-1. However, I've succeeded in creating a pill-form treatment of sorts that will slow and potentially halt the symptoms of MR-1. The "cocktail" is essentially comprised of painkillers, antidepressants, and other neurological drugs, as well as a derivative of Methylphenidate (a.k.a. Ritalin) to enhance concentration and an anti-viral concoction of my own that slows the virus' procreation. The complete ingredients list as well as dosage requirements are listed on the back of this page. This cocktail will not reverse the physical changes or prevent the spread of the virus, but it may help the infected maintain their sanity until a cure can be developed. Unfortunately, the only person I could test them on was myself after being attacked a few days ago. So far I can say my drug is a success, but I don't have enough to last until help arrives. I've hidden the last bottle behind the lower right drawer of my desk. Whoever reads this, please get this medication and my notes to a safe zone for further study. I'm beginning to feel the symptoms of MR-1 and even with continued treatment I doubt I would be able to survive the mob at the door. I would rather my medication be used for someone who actually has a chance at survival._

Louis felt his heart in his throat as he continued to read.

_Louis. If you're reading this, I'm sorry I stayed behind, but please don't let my death be in vain. Survive. Get my notes to a safe zone for the sake of humanity. Also, should you find me and I'm infected, don't hesitate to pull the trigger. Please survive, live your life and move on, but don't find someone prettier than me or I'll have to haunt you._

Louis chuckled as his vision began to blur, his eyes welling up with tears.

_Louis, know that I have and will love you more than any person could ever love another. I'm certain that, one way or another, we will be together in the end._

_Dr. Angela Willingham_

Louis closed the folder just before his tears could smudge the ink.

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A/N: I realize I've taken quite a few creative liberties regarding the layout and design of Mercy hospital. I also realize most hospitals don't have a R&D department, but go with it. It makes the story more fun. :-) Please review, anonymous is welcome.


	3. Angel of Mercy

Disclaimer: As usual, all characters (except Angela), general plot and what not belong to Valve. Angela belongs to me, and I guess the sub-plot for this particular story is mine as well.

A/N: I'm actually writing about two chapters ahead of what I'm publishing, so if you're _really_ interested in the next chapter, click the green review button and let me know _just_ how eager you are (even if you're anonymous). This little quip of mine is not just aimed at other fan fiction members, but all you anonymous "read-but-never-writes," folks (I know who you guys are, I was one of you for a long time, and I still owe a lot of great authors reviews to their stories). Also, no need to kiss up. If I screw up, let me know (just do it constructively). :-P Thanks to everyone, anonymous and all, who've reviewed, added me to their favorite story list, etc.

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_Chapter 3 – Angel of Mercy_

Louis shakily folded the papers and stuffed them in his pocket, discarding the red folder. Removing the drawer, the broken man found the last testament of his fiancé's work towards humanity. He carefully tucked the pills away in his pocket and stood to face the others.

"Guys, let's go," the dark skinned man said dejectedly.

Zoey hurried over to him with a concerned look on her face. "I'm sorry Louis," she said, holding his trembling hands. "Whatever it may be, I'm sorry."

"Thanks Zoey," he sighed, forcing a smile and gently letting go of her soft hands. "Actually it's not all bad. Angela figured out a means to suppress the major symptoms of the virus. Essentially, a person taking these," he said removing the pill bottle from his pocket and drawing the looks of everyone, "may be able to hold onto their humanity after becoming an infected."

"You mean to say that anyone who's fully infected can return to normal if they take those pills?" Bill asked in surprise.

"Not exactly," Louis replied. "Any physical changes will remain, but the drugs help reduce the rage in an infected person's mind so that they can have rational thought."

"Yeah, good luck getting one of those crazies to swallow them," chimed Francis. Despite the scowls from Bill and Zoey, Louis knew he had a point. Trying to force an enraged infected to swallow those pills made about as much sense as a man parachuting into an alligator farm.

"Actually, it sounds like they're more of a preventative measure." Zoey said thoughtfully. "If someone were to start feeling the symptoms, they could take those pills to stop the mental transformation from taking place." The others nodded in agreement.

"Regardless," Bill mumbled as he lit up another cigarette. "Those pills won't be of any help to anyone if they're in a dead man's pocket. It's time we hightail it to that elevator." Bill loaded a fresh clip into his M-16. "Let's go."

The four saw the next set of stairs at the end of the hallway. As they made their way down the hall, the group decided to split into two teams to check all the rooms for supplies. Louis and Zoey worked the right side of the hall while Francis and Bill took the left. Several of the examination rooms turned up nothing. Closer to the end of the hall was the patient waiting areas, sitting rooms and the like. As Louis and Zoey were about to check the last darkened room, a muffled, eerie wail emanated from behind the closed door.

"Sounds like crying. But it's too faint to be coming from this room," Zoey whispered as she slowly opened the door. Within she could see boards were partially covering a large hole in the ceiling, allowing thin traces of light from the next floor to shine through the cracks, illuminating a small coffee table. Wooden chairs lined the makeshift break room, and to the left was a half-wall that partially concealed a kitchenette area.

Louis peered in and looked to the right, spotting a set of cabinets which undoubtedly held foodstuffs and other such supplies. Suddenly he froze, spotting the source of the soft sobs. There in the corner closest to the door, huddled over some partially devoured foodstuffs was a witch. Though it was difficult to see in the darkened room, the light from the doorway shimmered off that trademark platinum witch hair like moonlight off a lake. The ripped, bloody lab coat she wore was more like a short white vest; the sleeves and lower half having been ripped off. The tattered remains of her scrubs pants barely covered her waist and upper thighs, the leg portions also having been violently ripped away. She had her back to the door and was apparently crying into a towel she found from who knows where. Louis whispered to Zoey, "Lights off," and nodded in the direction of the witch. Zoey held down her surprised gasp as she quickly turned off her light. Slowly, quietly, the team backed out of the room and shut the door. As the lock clicked shut, the crying abruptly stopped.

"Oh shit. Not good," mouthed Louis. Zoey made fast finger walking gestures to Louis and nodded in the direction down the hall. "Wait," Louis mouthed and placed a finger to his lips. After a few tense moments of silence the crying resumed. Louis wiped the sweat from his brow while Zoey let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Francis and Bill approached, announcing they had found a spare first aid kit and an extra handgun in the last room. Louis and Zoey both whispered "Witch" while pointing at the closed door. Francis smirked, preparing to cock his shotgun. Bill placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head in the negative. Slightly dejected, Francis lowered his weapon and the four trotted off quietly to the stairs, leaving the miserable infected to dwell in her loneliness.

Ascending the next set of stairs, Francis saw the main elevator at the end of the next hall. "Guys! Main elevator up ahead!" As the other three joined him, they noticed something had been down this hallway already. The two rooms to the immediate left were decimated. Yellow caution tape and splintered wood were littered about the floor. There were no walls to separate the two rooms from each other or the attached hallway, and there were floorboards covering what looked to be one massive hole. Further down they could see other rooms in similar disarray, doors ripped from the hinges and huge marks in the wall. The main fluorescent lights were out on this floor, the only light coming from the few dim orange emergency lamps that had not yet run out of battery power. It created more shadows than the team would've liked, adding an even more ominous ambiance to the long hallway that would lead them to safety.

As the group took their first steps, they felt the floor tremble. "Shit, 'nother horde." Francis said, pumping his shotgun.

"That's no horde," Bill said slowly as a huge arm appeared from around a corner, "that's a-"

"TANK!" Louis yelled, effectively finishing Bill's sentence and catching the tank's attention. With a roar, the huge muscle-bound behemoth charged the group. The four let go with everything they had, and it barely seemed to slow the tank down.

"Scatter!" Bill cried as he, Zoey, and Francis jumped to the sides. The tank, taking less than a second to decide who to pummel into the ground first, picked Louis as his target. Louis, frozen in fear, held his ground and emptied his clip at point blank range, but quickly loaded another. One massive left hook cleaved the air that Louis' head occupied a heartbeat earlier. His legs had given way and he dropped to his knees. Louis fired his M-16 upward into the tank's midsection hoping to bring it down before it could clobber him. However, the enraged tank was much tougher than it looked. With a roar it swung again, landing a vicious upper cut to the survivor's solar plexus, sending him hurling head over heels through the air.

For Louis everything was happening in slow motion, much like a car accident. His was almost completely deaf from the force of the blow; it was as though a grenade had gone off right next to him. The blow hurt so badly, he wasn't sure he could feel his legs. He was at least able to see they were still attached as they sailed over his head, his body flipping in mid air from the force of the blow. He could hear the muffled gunfire and cries of his comrades as the tank turned to charge into the next unlucky survivor. The beating of his own heart was thudding loudly in his head as gravity took hold and started pulling him earthbound. He fell into the damaged room near the stairs, ass first, crashing through the flimsy floorboards as easily as a thrown brick would shatter a window pane.

Suddenly time caught up as the second flash of pain hit him full force. He came crashing down onto a table into the room below, shattering it completely but thankfully not shattering his spine on the hard floor. The shock caused him to drop his weapons into the darkness. Louis' flashlight rolled around and around just out of reach until it's beam fell upon his face, effectively blinding him from finding his weapons and from orienting himself.

The room was almost completely dark, save for his flashlight and what little light that shone in the hole he made in the ceiling. Louis attempted to move but the sharp pain in his back put a stop to that. Groaning, he painfully propped himself into a sitting position. Noticing the destroyed coffee table under his body, he realized this was the last room he and Zoey were about to search, but…

It hit him like a slap in the face. Louis froze, realizing he was not alone.

There in the corner, still with her back to him was the witch. If she was crying earlier, the room was dead silent now. Louis froze in terror, his breath caught in his throat, as the witch let out growls of disapproval at the very noisy intrusion and turned around to face him. Her amber eyes gleamed, sending a shiver up Louis' spine.

The scene was turning into that from a horror movie. Louis was rooted to the spot, and as if on cue, his flashlight went out. Now all he could see was the glowing eyes of the witch, the ambient light from above barely enough to illuminate the small spot in which he sat, let alone the rest of the room. Noticing the intruder was not making any attempts to leave, the witch began crawling towards him. Her long, deadly claw like fingernails clacking on the linoleum was the only sound in the room, save for the steadily rising growl in her throat and the quiet yet rapid breathing of the survivor. Panic rising, he flailed his hands around the ground hoping to find his weapons, but they were all out of reach. She drew closer, her murderous growls becoming more pronounced as she prepared to take her anger out on the helpless man in front of her.

Louis clenched his eyes shut and thought a silent prayer to a god he wondered even existed. The witch was now kneeling right in front of him, her arm drawn back and poised to strike like a cobra. Faced with certain death, Louis uttered his last words.

"Angela... I'm sorry," he whispered.

The witch paused, confused, for a moment at the sound of his voice, her growl dying in her throat. She then noticed the smell of the man's perspiration, finding his masculine scent rather pleasant. Out of curiosity now rather than malice, she drew closer to him, her hair falling into her face. Louis saw her claws land on either side of his hips, and her knees were in between his open legs. He could feel her breathing as her face was less than an inch away from his. To his utter shock, she began to sniff at him as though his scent was intoxicating. Holding perfectly still, Louis watched, surprised he wasn't being eviscerated on the spot. As strange as this was, nothing would have prepared him for what happened next.

The witch stopped to stare at him, her white hair hanging over her eyes. She studied him as though she were trying to solve a complex riddle. Then her face contorted into a mask of concentration as she attempted to speak. "Nnngh… mmmrrr... mmmrrrggghh," she struggled as her sounds turned to growls and then to sobs.

"_She seems… frustrated?"_ Louis thought, his anxiety finally beginning to die down a little. For the witch, this was indeed frustrating. This was the first person she encountered that didn't completely enrage her. Instead she was filled with a foreign yet comforting, familiar sensation, in contrast to the anguish and anger that typically clouded her mind. She wanted desperately to convey this, but simply could not speak the words.

His heart getting the better of his head, Louis whispered comfortingly, "Hey, hey… it's ok." He doubted she'd understand him, but her sobbing relented to quiet sniffles. Cautiously, Louis raised his hands to gently brush aside the hair covering her eyes. If the eyes are the windows to the soul, then Louis saw an amber tinted world of sorrow and pain staring back at him. Her grief was flowing freely down her face, the droplets falling onto his shirt. Reflexively, Louis caressed her cheeks, catching her tears with his thumb. His affectionate gesture was not lost on the witch, and she felt warmth develop within her breast she didn't know existed. Her lips curled up into a smile as she moved to kneel in front of him, reaching up with a clawed hand to tenderly caress the man's face, taking care to avoid scratching him.

The awed survivor took stock of the now docile creature before him. It was difficult to make out her face in the faint light, yet he could see the outlines of an attractive woman. Her cheek was soft and full, not sunken, and the rest of her body didn't seem bony or wasted away like the other witches he encountered. _"Probably those foodstuffs,"_ Louis noted. _"A beautiful woman who's life was destroyed by this damn virus," _he thought bitterly. _"And a doctor no less, judging by the lab coat and scratched up ID badge. Just like A-__"_

Louis' mental train of thought derailed. The missing piece of this puzzle was dangling right in front of him on the witch's tattered lab coat.

He tenderly reached towards her cleavage to pluck the badge from her lab coat lapel, the witch watching him in interest. Unintentionally he brushed her chest, causing her to blush and shyly turn away. "Sorry," he said timidly, though she didn't seem to mind the almost intimate contact. She inched herself closer, sitting down between his legs while extending her own legs over his thighs, bringing her entire body less than a foot away from his. Louis blushed in turn and involuntarily cleared his throat. Regaining his composure, he squinted at the photo on the badge, but it was too scratched to clearly make out.

"_The name, on the other hand,"_ he thought as he ran his fingers over the smooth yet dirty part of the badge. Using his shirt sleeve between his fingers, he wiped the grime from the badge to discover its currently nameless owner.

As he was about to learn his new "friend's" name, the light-bulb lit up… literally. The door to the room was thrown open and the few undamaged fluorescent lights flickered to life. The two turned their heads towards the door in surprise.

"Witch's got Louis!" he heard someone scream.

"Wait! Nooooo!!!!" he cried as the first shot rang out.

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A/N: Good cliffhanger eh? C'mon, give me some reviews if you want to find out what happens next!


	4. Saved by an Angel

Disclaimer: Yet again, I don't own the stuff Valve does, like all the characters and major part of the plot. I own Angela and the sub plot of this particular story.

A/N: Loving the reviews, and the fact that so many people are adding this to their watch list or favorite story list. As I said before, I'm well beyond chapter 4 so if you want the stuff posted sooner, give me a review and tell me you're eager for the next chapter. Plus feel free to take guesses as to what will happen next; I might just change the story. Ok enough of my crap, enjoy chapter 4!

_Chapter 4 – Saved by an Angel_

Everything happened within a second, though it seemed much longer to the two on the floor. Instinct kicked in as both survivor and infected did the only thing they had what little time to do…

They protected each other.

"Hold your fire!" Bill yelled, upon hearing the distress from his comrade. As the three survivors lowered their weapons and the momentary panic faded, they beheld an unbelievable sight. Louis was hugging a witch in an attempt to shield her from harm. Even more amazing was that she was holding him close in a protective fashion as a mother would protect her child.

It's well known that all animals, humans included, have a paternal/maternal protective instinct when they believe a child or other loved one is faced with certain danger. The witch, having clearly not lost all of her human instincts, was clutching the survivor tightly in her own attempt to protect him, having splayed her clawed hands across his back. As if their thoughts were entwined, Louis had pulled the witch into his arms and turned his back to the door trying to shield the non-threatening infected from harm.

For an instant, Zoey's heart fell into her stomach. She had been the first to open fire, assuming Louis to be in mortal danger. Now she thought she had ended his life with her haste. Luckily the bullet never hit its mark. A small trickle of blood from where the bullet was deflected ran down the witch's clawed hand and onto Louis' shirt, much like her tears had done only moments earlier. The witch, none too pleased with the rather violent interruption and threat on her companion's life, was glaring at the three intruders over Louis' shoulder as a growl rose in her throat.

"What do we do now, 'captain?'" Francis whispered out of the side of his mouth to Bill with a hint of sarcasm. The witch's growls were becoming louder, though she made no attempts to stand. She refused to remove her hands from the systems analyst. Suddenly, her eyes closed and she began murmuring contently into Louis' neck. The three survivors couldn't see it, but Louis was slowly and soothingly rubbing the witch's back with his left hand, his right holding the ID badge out behind her, the name now clearly visible in the room's lighting.

"Shhhh. Its okay, Angela. We're together again, just like you said," Louis whispered shakily, holding his fiancé close. The witch, finding his voice and touch very comforting, continued to moan and nuzzle his neck, but kept her clawed hands firmly planted on Louis' back.

"Wait a minute! Did you just say…?" Zoey began to ask as Francis hushed her.

"It's official," Francis half whispered to the other two, "Louis has snapped."

Bill looked on thoughtfully. Ever since this outbreak he'd thought he'd seen absolutely everything, but something else was always hiding in the shadows, or lurking around the corner that would raise the "seen absolutely everything" bar a notch higher. At least this time it was something pleasant. There would be time to ponder this later, but now they had a serious dilemma. Louis was being 'held hostage?' by a witch that didn't appear hostile, at least to him, but she certainly didn't seem to like Bill, Francis and Zoey. The four needed to get to the roof, but how to free Louis? He was injured from the tank's beating. He would have to be healed, but how to do that with a witch on him? That witch could easily kill him given his current physical condition. Would they have to kill her? How would they be able to convince Louis he was hallucinating? Was he hallucinating? Why did that witch take such a liking to him; was it really his fiancé?

Sighing inwardly Bill asked in a quiet voice, "Suggestions, anyone?"

Zoey exclaimed in a hushed voice, "I can't believe he actually thinks that… that witch is his fiancé!" She stared at the couple incredulously for a moment, then turned back at Bill, "And whether she is or not, we can't just leave him here. He's wounded!"

Francis mulled over this turn of events and muttered, "Much as I think he's lost it, the fact that we don't see his entrails spread all over the room suggests that all of us are as nuts as he is, and I'm not leaving a fellow nutcase behind."

Bill chuckled, replying "Yeah I agree, but it still doesn't answer _how _we're going help him."

The witch heard the others whispering, but none of it mattered to her. All that mattered was this man in her arms. His smell, his voice, his touch, they were all that existed to her at the moment. A synapse in her brain fired, calling forth a memory that she and this man had been together in the past. He was more than special to her, he was her mate. Images flashed in her mind of his smile, her smelling his scent and feeling his hands on her back when they hugged, when they danced, when they made love. None of the images made complete sense to her, but they ignited a fire in her belly she didn't want to extinguish. As if her grief stricken mind was taunting her, a darker memory surfaced. She was waving goodbye to him. He was walking away… looking sad. She was crying. The idea of losing him made her feel sick. No! Never again!

She struggled to speak once more; her mouth finally cooperating, "Lllllllooo…llll….llllooooove…….llllll…..lllloooouuuisssssssss." She sighed as though she'd been holding her breath with those words for an eternity.

Louis choked down a sob, "I love you too Angela."

The three survivors' jaws fell open.

Francis quipped, "Well that settles it. We just graduated from nuts to full blown loony."

Bill shook his head, "Let's focus on the immediate concern that Louis is injured and we can't hang around here."

"I have a spare first aid kit, but I don't think that witch will let me get within 5 feet of him, considering I'm the one who shot her," Zoey trailed off feeling guilty.

"Not your fault," Francis said patting her shoulder. "Just your reflexes are faster than the old 'vet and mine." Bill arched an eyebrow at Francis' comment, while Zoey smiled. "Maybe you should…. Ugh I can't believe I'm suggesting something this crazy…" Francis mumbled putting his hand to his head, "try… uhh… apologizing to her?"

Zoey smiled, "That's not a bad idea. Why did that seem so crazy to you Francis?"

"The idea of apologizing to _anyone_ is just plain nuts in my book," Francis said wryly, earning a playful punch from Zoey. She looked over at the reunited lovers and took a deep breath. It was worth a try.

"Ummm… Angela?" Zoey asked, attracting the witch's cold stare. "I'm… I'm sorry I shot you." 'Angela' didn't really understand what was being said, though the sound of her own name was oddly familiar. "Can you forgive me? Louis is our friend, and we just want to help" she pleaded. The witch looked at her, hearing the same soft tone in her voice that she heard from Louis. Her eyes narrowed as Zoey slowly approached them. Pulling an anesthetic wipe from the first aid kit, she gently cleaned the wound on the witch's claw.

'Angela' had a momentary flash of memory: _Treating an injury, hands holding gauze._ More memories flashed: _wrapping a wound, comforting a patient._ She looked at Louis, seeing his obvious physical discomfort. Zoey finished and looked at her expectantly. Reluctantly, she removed her arms from Louis and scooted back. Francis and Bill took a defensive position in the room as the witch rose to her feet, their weapons at the ready. The witch looked apprehensive of the survivors and their threatening stance. She looked down at her companion with worry and confusion. Louis looked up at her, smiling to let her know things were all right, then turned his attention to his comrades.

"Guys," Louis said tiredly, "She's not dangerous. Zoey, please patch me up. Everything hurts."

Zoey worked quickly, tending to Louis' injuries and giving him some pain pills for his aching back. "Ahhhh." Louis said, getting to his feet and retrieving his weapons and flashlight. "Thanks Zoey."

"No problem. But… what about her?" She asked, looking at the witch. 'Angela' stood staring at the four, unsure of what to do. She didn't trust these other people, but Louis seemed to trust them. Plus, the small one made her clawed hand feel better and helped Louis.

"I have an idea," Louis said, drawing the cocktail pills from his pocket. He took a single pill and held it in front of Angela. She stared at it; this object looked very familiar. Louis slowly put the pill to her lips. Reflexively she sucked it from his fingers and swallowed it. "I don't know how long it will take for the drugs to work, I just hope they do," Louis sighed. "Angela," he said, "These are my friends: Bill, Francis, and Zoey," he said pointing to each in turn. The three each said "Hi" and waved a free hand as they were introduced. Angela seemed to process this, and she emulated their greeting in return.

"Hhhhiiiiii," she said back, imitating the hand waving gesture with one of her claws. Suddenly she froze. A shriek escaped her lips, and the four gasped as she lunged towards the survivors.

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A/N: Ok who's throat do you think she'll go for first? :-P Sorry this chapter is short, but the next one will be much longer.


	5. Ascending to Heaven

_Disclaimer: I own Angela, sub plot, and nothing else. Valve owns the rest._

A/N: Things will be heating up later on in the story, so if you're very religious or closed-minded, you may as well bail out now and find some Disney to read. I'm very happy with the small fan base I've acquired, but of course, the more reviews the better. Thanks again to everyone for the positive reviews, and please keep 'em comin'!

_Chapter 5 – Ascending to Heaven_

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Louis was too surprised to do anything. One moment Angela was greeting the survivors, the next she was screaming and lunging past his friends for the door as though she spotted something. Zoey, Bill, and Francis went to draw their weapons, but the witch was too fast and already out the door. Shrieks and cries could be heard from the room across the way, followed by a wheezing death gasp. A noxious cloud of smoke billowed in the doorway as Angela emerged, her clawed hand covered in a sickening blackish blood that oozed between her fingers. Louis looked down and saw a smoker's lifeless tongue leading from the opposite room laying a few feet from where he stood.

"Damn." Francis said. "She killed that smoker before any of us even heard it? I _am_ off my game."

"Wow," Bill said, staring in astonishment as Angela walked over to Louis' side and hugged his arm. "Louis, you better hold onto her. I've known a few women I'd kill for, but none that would kill for me."

Zoey chuckled, looking at her comrades affectionately, "I've killed for three, so what's that make me?"

"In our group, a polygamist," Francis said, smiling. The four survivors erupted with laughter. Angela, still not quite able to understand everything, simply laid her head on Louis' shoulder, content that she had protected him.

"Thank you Angela. I owe you a big one," Louis said kissing her forehead, causing her to smile and blush.

"Ok kids," Bill said, looking at Louis and Angela. "We've got an elevator to catch. So gear up and let's go."

As the group went to leave, Angela pulled Louis' arm, stopping him. She pouted, not wanting him to leave her. Louis tugged her wrist, encouraging her to come with them. "You're a survivor," he said smiling. "And even if you weren't, I'd never leave you behind." Angela stared at him in understanding. The reunited lovers hurried down the hall to catch up.

The five made haste back up the stairs into the hall with the main elevator. Louis saw the hole in the floor he made when the tank punched him. Francis noticed, saying, "Yeah he clocked you somethin' harsh! You must've flown back a good ten feet at least. You're lucky you didn't break your back but don't worry, we returned the favor." He nodded over at the dead tank slumped against one of the adjacent corridors, its body riddled with more lead than city drinking water. Louis shuddered, remembering the moment, while Angela growled in the direction of the deceased behemoth.

They approached the elevator, finding a cache of weapons and ammo. Everyone geared up except for Angela, who's lacked the necessary dexterity to even hold, let alone shoot, a firearm. Bill noticed a hole in the wall to the right of the elevator. Nodding to Francis, the two watched the hole while Louis, with Zoey and Angela flanking him, faced down the hall. "Ready?" asked Bill. After getting the nod, he pushed the button.

It was as though he'd pressed the button on a detonator. The hallway shook and the horde exploded from the hole in the wall. More were rushing in from down the hall, their collective screaming loud enough to drown out gunfire.

Bill and Francis mowed down the wave from the hole while Zoey stuck to clipping groups of infected from the main hall with her rifle. A hunter joined the second wave, jumping on the side of the wall, preparing to leap over the common infected and pounce on his first meal. Zoey picked him off with ease, while Louis took head shots with his M-16. So far the group was holding their own quite well.

Suddenly the wall to the left burst as more angry infected charged the surprised group. Angela turned with a shriek, wielding her claws like swords and cutting down the infected as they charged. Several of the infected ignored the witch, instead charging for Louis, which got their heads taken from their shoulders as Angela decapitated the threats. The few that charged Angela directly were kicked away as she attempted to protect her fiance. The drugs beginning to take effect, Angela prioritized killing those that attempted to directly attack Louis, while simply holding off the ones that were drawn to her. Killing all the infected was secondary; the priority was to protect the group. The mob was getting thicker, and soon the five found themselves going toe to toe with the common infected. "I didn't sign up for this shit!" Bill yelled as one of the infected landed a blow to his face. He returned the favor with the butt of his rifle, knocking down three that were mobbing him. Francis' shotgun kept the mass away, but his reload time gave a smoker the window of opportunity to snag him. Just as he finished loading the last shell, the smoker's serpentine tongue wrapped around his torso.

"No, no, noo!" he yelled as he was dragged down the darkened hall towards his doom.

"Smoker's got Francis!" Louis yelled, while pistol-whipping a couple more infected that went for his throat. Angela, having already dealt with the left flank threat, turned and ran towards Francis, cutting down several infected on her way before slicing the smoker's tongue. The smoker screeched in pain, but it was cut short as Angela closed the distance and slashed his throat, releasing more of the noxious smoke into the air. Louis threw another pipe bomb to distract the mob, while Zoey clubbed the two remaining infected that still focused on attacking her.

With a "ding" the elevator arrived. "C'mon, let's go, go go!" Bill yelled as the doors opened. Francis untangled himself and ran back towards the group, Angela already a few paces ahead of him. Another hunter, hiding somewhere in the destroyed hall area, leapt from out of the smoke cloud, preparing to pounce on the retreating biker. The two runners turned at the sound of the cry. Francis, back pedaling, prepared to fire but tripped and fell on his ass. It was dumb luck, as the hunter overshot him and landed on Angela instead. The hunter paused for a second noticing he missed his target, but that was all Angela needed. The hunter gurgled as one of her claws went through his jugular, then he went sailing through the air as she kicked him off with both feet. She leapt to her feet, then helped Francis to his. The two made a mad dash for the elevator, quickly joining the group as the doors closed.

The elevator began its slow ascension as everyone took a moment to catch their breath. "Well, thanks for waiting up," Francis said half joking, half not. "Oh and uh… thanks for taking that hunter's pounce for me," he said to Angela. She looked at him for a second and slurred out, "No…. problem….. Francis."

The rest stared back in awe. "You know my name?" He asked, surprised. Angela smiled at Francis, speaking slowly as her mouth's 'muscle memory' returned, "Louis… introduced us… remember?" She turned to the stunned Zoey. "Thanks… for not… killing me," she said with a half grin, earning a nervous smile from the college student. The words were beginning to come easier now, the cocktail working its wonders. She then turned to Louis and smiled, saying, "You found my note… and my pills." The memories were flooding back as Angela's mind became her own once again. She walked over to Louis and hugged him tightly, laying her head on his chest. "I'm sorry I stayed behind," she said into his chest, "but I'm glad you saved me."

Louis held his love tightly, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. "Honey I didn't save you at all," he said, his voice quivering, "I just… 'dropped in.'" he said making a feeble attempt at a bad pun. "If anything, you saved me."

Angela looked off into space, a tidal wave of memories flooding into her mind about the events that took place after the last pill she'd taken herself had worn off. She remembered the pain, her body changing and twisting into this horrendous shape, her vision enhancing, her strength increasing threefold, her porcelain skin turning the color of a stormy sky, and her once beautiful hands growing into feral-like claws. She remembered looking into a mirror, seeing the frightening visage staring back at her with it's glowing eyes and platinum white hair, and then she remembered crying… crying for a very long time… being angry at the infected, at herself, and soon at nothing in particular. She remembered the infected attacking the barricaded door and how she eagerly anticipated butchering them when they finally broke through. They would feel her pain. She would make them pay. She remembered no longer being able to wait, destroying the barricade herself and rushing the horde at the door with a murderous rage. She remembered running through them, cutting them down like a thresher on wheat. The power she felt was intoxicating, her hatred pouring into every blow she delivered. She remembered when the carnage settled, seeing the bodies, the blood on her claws, it terrified her. She wanted nothing more than to hide. She remembered being insatiably hungry, the transformation and the fight leaving her body starved for energy. She remembered finding a dark room, raiding a supply closet for food. She remembered eating like she hadn't eaten in weeks, then she began crying again. She remembered her sorrow being interrupted when Louis literally fell back into her life. She remembered she was going to release her rage on the unknown intruder, until she heard him… she heard him say her name, and the last recesses of humanity in her soul made one final attempt to surface.

"Louis," she said finally, looking at him, "you did save me. You saved me from myself. I… I killed them… the infected horde outside my office. I killed them all. No… not just killed them… slaughtered them," Angela said, her voice shaking. Everyone stood silent. "I felt so _angry_... at first with myself for not leaving with you, then at the infected for turning me into… into, _this!_" she said the anger echoing in her voice. She took a breath to calm herself then continued, "I remember killing them with… with zeal, actually getting some kind of sick euphoric feeling out of it. Then I remember feeling so awful for what I'd done… what I'd become. The killing felt so natural, so easy. It wasn't me!" she cried, holding Louis tighter and burying her face in his chest, unable to look at him.

Angela wept, and everyone was silent. Louis held his love tight as the moment passed. He wished he could steal her pain, if only for a moment. He wanted to reassure her, but he knew she didn't need his words, she needed him to listen. After regaining her composure she looked at her lover and continued to pour her heart out.

"Louis," she said, blinking away the tears, "when I heard your voice and smelled you, something clicked in my head. I… I vaguely remember sitting there with you. I thought it was a dream at first, like my mind was trying to give me one last sweet reprieve from this nightmare," she looked away for a moment fighting back more tears, "I wanted to make sure I wasn't dreaming, so I tried calling your name, but I just couldn't and then I started crying. But when you put your hands to my face to comfort me, I knew it wasn't a dream. I knew you were really in front of me. I could feel your kindness and sympathy." She looked him squarely in the eyes, blinking away her tears, "All my love for you surfaced from under the anguish and hatred that was trying to smother it. Then when the door was thrown open, I thought you were in danger, so I tried to shield you."

With a heavy sigh, Angela finally felt the crushing weight of guilt lifted from her conscience. "And at that moment... that was when _you_ saved _me_. You made me realize that despite what I have become, despite what I've done, I still have my humanity… I still have you."

What could Louis say to such a powerful confession? There were no words that would ever match them, so he went with his heart. Louis kissed her. He kissed her with everything he had, and she melted in his arms. It didn't matter who was looking, for the moment it was just the two of them. Bill smiled at the two lovers. Francis turned away in mock disgust. Zoey looked on at them, realizing she'd been harboring a crush on Louis. Seeing him kiss his love so passionately without an ounce of hesitation, even after everything that had transpired, made her realize that was all she had… a crush. Crushes come and go, but love like that was one in a million, even before the world took itself to hell. The college girl felt a sense of closure, wondering if she would be as lucky one day. _"Pickings certainly are abundant now,"_ she thought sarcastically.

Their lips reluctantly pulled apart and the two smiled at each other. Their moment finished, Louis and Angela stood as two people once more. It was apparent that although Angela felt better about Louis accepting her, she was still a little upset with what she'd done. Bill, Zoey, and Francis approached her to offer their own means of condolences.

Bill was the first to speak. "The killing is terrible, because the more you do it, the easier it gets," he said, his cigarette hanging from his lips. "You never get used to it, but it gets easier. In this situation, it's a rather twisted blessing."

"True." Francis said, thinking of what to say. "For what it's worth, you can certainly hold your own out there."

"I think what he means to say," Zoey said, "is that now it's not killing because you _want_ to, it's because we _have _to."

Angela chuckled and smiled at the three. "Thank you everyone. Louis, where did you find such a great bunch of people? I can't believe I never met them during one of your bowling nights."

Everyone laughed at that. "Good looking, tough as a brick shit house, and a sense of humor! Three for three right there buddy." Francis said, slapping Louis on the back.

"Actually, they found me," Louis said, answering his fiancé. "I was on my way to Mercy to get you when another driver plowed into my car. When I came to, the whole city looked like it had gone to hell. The infected were clawing at the car, trying to open it up and get to me like canned meat. These three saved my life. They patched me up, handed me a gun, and the rest is history."

"Angela," Bill said gravely. "You realize this isn't over. We're going to run into more infected before we get out of here, and we will need to neutralize them," he said, his military background coming out in his words. "Are you ok with fighting along side us?"

Angela chewed on that for a moment, responding, "The only reason I think I can do this now is because, like Zoey said, 'I _have _to.' Just like before when that… what did you call them, smokers?" The survivors nodded. "When that smoker tried to get the drop on Louis, and the one that snared Francis, I was able to kill them both because I knew they would've killed you guys first. I know there's no way we'll escape without shedding more blood, so yes I can… I will… fight alongside all of you."

With that, the elevator finally finished its journey to the 28th floor. The elevator stopped with a "ding" signaling the passengers this was their stop. The four survivors readied their weapons. Angela took an offensive stance, preparing to let instinct take over once more. Flexing her clawed hands, she symbolically tabled her humanity, as the doors slowly opened…

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A/N: Review it dang it! Show me some love. Anonymous reviews welcome.


	6. Golem of Prague

_Disclaimer: I own Angela and subplot. The rest belongs to Valve._

A/N: Yet again lots of thanks to everyone who's reviewed my story, added to a favorite, and such. Also, if every chapter has been a refreshing glass of water to a parched reader, then this glass has a lemon wedge in it (hint hint). For those who don't know what "lemon" means in writing, it's a term to describe sexual content. You have been warned.

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_Chapter 6 – Golem of Prague_

The doors opened to an entire floor that was under construction. Sections of the walls were nothing more than framework, while a few had drywall in place. Nearly the entire floor was without bordering walls, leaving it exposed to the open air, turning one false step into a twenty-eight story asphalt nosedive. Most of the lighting was out, the generators having long since run out of fuel. Save the occasional flash of lightning, the falling rain and approach of dusk offered very poor visibility. A few palettes of building materials were strewn around, creating makeshift obstacles for the infected to hide behind. Several common infected were sitting on the floor or leaning against the walls, looking as though they hadn't slept in days.

"There should be roof access somewhere on this floor," Louis said to no one in particular. The five began to traverse the floor, earning little attention from the scattered common infected. Angela noticed the virus had run many of them to the point of exhaustion. She crept up behind one leaning on a wall and casually elbowed him in the back of the neck, dropping him in near silence.

Bill noticed, seeing where Angela was going with this. "Everyone," he said, "lights off and do not shoot unless absolutely necessary." Francis was about to retort, but Zoey placed a finger to his lips and pointed at Angela. She was working like an assassin, knocking out the small pockets of infected without alerting the others.

The team was able to cover a large part of the floor this way, all of them using the butt of their weapons to quietly put the infected out of their misery. They had already gone around the majority of the construction when Francis saw an infected leaning next to a support pillar near the edge of the building. He couldn't help himself. Creeping up until he was about five feet away, he suddenly lurched forward and body checked the unaware infected off the ledge, who fell to his doom without even flailing his arms.

"Well that sucked." Francis said disappointed, looking over the edge. "I was expecting a yell or something." Turning around, he got his wish as one of the other infected had already taken notice and was running at him, screaming and flailing his arms. Francis was quick, side-stepping at the last moment while delivering a foot sweep to the reckless attacker. This one made a bit more noise as he toppled over the edge to join his buddy countless feet below.

"Great job Francis," Louis remarked dryly as more common infected were drawn to the noise. Several had appeared out of the partially finished rooms and from around corners, running towards the commotion. "So much for subtlety," he said as he pulled out his pistols and began dropping the runners. The rest of the group began dealing with the extra attention, hoping it wouldn't escalate into a full blown horde.

Angela had managed to avoid the majority of the attention Francis drew to the group, as she was already a good distance ahead of them. While the survivors were traversing the edge of the floor, she was working her way through the center, slipping through the unfinished walls. Since she didn't have any extra gear and was one of the infected, it was easy for her to slip through the walls without putting herself in a compromising position. Though she was making faster progress, she was concerned the entire situation could get out of hand very quickly. She was mostly worried about Louis, but she knew the four of them would be able to handle a standard horde. Special infected, on the other hand, could prove deadly if they waited in ambush. She continued moving through the framework of several of the unfinished walls to look for any serious trouble waiting to surprise the survivors.

As she neared the edge of the floor, her senses tingled. A large number of concrete bags had been piled up for storage, creating a makeshift wall. Peering through one of the cracks between the bags, she saw the hulking form of a tank. _"This is bad,"_ she thought to herself. He had the element of surprise. The four unwary survivors would come around the corner of those concrete bags, and one punch from that juggernaut would send them right off the edge, plummeting to the streets below. Looking around, she saw a small hole between the bags and a collapsed wall. The hole in the collapsed wall would be a tight fit even for herself. There was no way a person loaded down with gear would ever squeeze through without alerting the behemoth.

Listening, she could hear the four survivors battling it out with the rabble. The occasional cries of "Boomer," "Hunter," or the like could be heard through the gunfire. They were getting closer, the tank beginning to let out irritated grunts and growls. In a minute this thing would be pummeling them unless she acted fast.

Angela squeezed through the small hole, ending up right behind the tank. Looking around quickly, she noticed the tank was standing in a makeshift hallway, the concrete bags on his left and a finished drywall on the right. He was blocking the only path towards what appeared to be a potential way to the roof. He would have to be moved. "Hey ugly!" she yelled at the tank, trying to divert its attention. The tank turned around to regard her for a moment, but didn't pay her any mind as it turned back towards the approaching noise. _"Well, this at least explains why a lot of the infected don't simply maul each other," _she thought to herself. _"They must be able to sense a chemical excretion off other infected."_ She shook her head. This was not the time to analyze the situation. It was time for plan B. Stealthily, she crept up to the tank until she was only a few feet behind it. Holding her breath she drew back her arm, one claw extended, preparing to stick it to the tank like a proctologist with bad depth perception.

.

* * *

.

After 'detonating' another Boomer from a safe distance, Zoey realized Angela was nowhere in sight. The crowd had been thinned out, leaving only a few stragglers. The four were making their way towards the next corner of the floor, hoping to find a ladder or something, as they had almost gone 360 degrees. There was a large pile of concrete bags, forming a makeshift wall up ahead. Turning that corner would bring the survivors to the last stretch of the floor. "Uh guys," she said, drawing the attention of the men who finished mopping up the remaining infected. "Have you seen Ang..?"

Her sentence was cut off by a very loud, very surprised sounding roar nearby that started off deep, sounding like a tank, but rose higher in pitch as though he'd been kicked in the groin. The sounds of shrieking and crashing could be heard next, followed by Angela half-running, half-sliding from around the concrete bags. She dove towards the survivors, narrowly dodging an airborne bag of concrete aimed for her head that instead flew off into the open sky.

"Big surprise coming!" she said, getting to her feet as the tank rounded the corner, looking _very_ irate.

"…The hell did you do? Shove your claws up its ass?" Francis yelled as he and the others began opening fire and retreating.

"_You don't know the half of it_,_"_ she thought, trying to make a hasty retreat. The tank was solely focused on the 'traitorous witch' despite the gunfire coming from the four survivors. Bill noticed this and had an idea.

"Angela, can you outrun it?" he yelled, yanking a Molotov from his belt and lighting it.

"I think so. Why, what are you…?" she asked before seeing him ready to throw the makeshift firebomb, her glowing eyes widening in surprise. "Oh shit! At least give me a head start! He's already pissed off at me!" she yelled before darting through the uncompleted walls. The survivors ran over to the concrete bags to hide as Bill lobbed the Molotov in the tank's direction. As he threw it, he noticed the tank's tattered pants had been ripped open near the rear. Bill let out a laugh before diving behind the concrete bags.

The Molotov hit, igniting the tank and his rage. Unable to spot who threw it, he assumed the traitor infected was to blame and began crashing through the half-completed walls to catch up to her. Angela looked back to see the muscle-bound fireball gaining fast, but at the cost of destroying a lot of the support beams for the floor above. A plan forming, she doubled back, darting past the tank to his right. He swung his fist wide, barely missing her and clipping another unfinished wall instead. The building began to shake as parts of the floor above came crashing down. The tank picked up a chunk of concrete to hurl at the escaping witch, but as he hoisted it over his head, a piece three times its size fell from above, crushing him on the spot.

Angela turned back to see the extinguished tank become buried by more falling debris. When the dust settled, all that remained was a large pile of concrete and other building materials. Breathing a sigh of relief, she hurried back to the group.

"Safe house, up ahead!" Zoey yelled, spotting the house marking on the wall. Angela caught up, and the five ran towards the open red door. They made a quick sweep of the immediate area to ensure it was cleared. "Clear! Lock the door!" Zoey yelled, as Louis slammed and barred the door.

"Woo hoo! That's what I'm talkin' 'bout!" Louis cheered as he pulled Angela into his arms. "Honey what you did took guts! I never knew you had it in you."

Angela smiled, "I caught him waiting to stick it to you guys, so I stuck it to him first." Bill laughed hard, catching the inside joke while the rest looked at him puzzled. "Bill," she said turning to him exasperated, "you're a clever old bastard, but you're crazy!" Everyone laughed at this rather obvious observation.

"Ah take a pill, doc!" Bill quipped, joking with her.

"Actually that's not a bad idea," Angela said, turning to Louis, who knew exactly what she wanted. Pulling another pill from the bottle in his pocket, he gave it to Angela. When the laughs subsided, the five decided to heal and look around.

"Wow. Looks like the construction crew had their priorities straight," Zoey noted with a hint of sarcasm. The 'safe house' revealed a lot more than a simple room. It was more like a small walled off set of living quarters. It was the first (and at this point only) part of the floor to have power routed from the main part of the hospital, rather than from a generator. There were supplies and ammo, but also a kitchen and a small sitting area with television and a fold out couch. Near the back was another reinforced door which led to a stairwell, which likely led to the roof. To the right of the door, there was a completed section of the floor with two enclosed patient recovery rooms and a shared bathroom. Both rooms had been converted into temporary sleeping quarters, each with a small twin bed and nightstand. The closets were left open, with hospital garments and work clothes hanging from within.

As the group reemerged into the main area, a crack of thunder sounded followed by the heavy pitter-patter of rain striking the building.

"Really comin' down out there," Francis noted.

"Yeah. Not a chance that chopper's coming in the next several hours," Bill added. "We should all try and relax for a bit… wait this out."

"Dibs on one of the bedrooms!" Louis said, raising his hand. The others looked at him, the realization dawning on everyone that none of them had slept, eaten, or bathed in quite some time.

"First dibs on the shower!" Angela called, claw in the air, before disappearing in a flash around the corner.

"Ah crap!" Zoey said pouting, her hand already halfway up. "Guess I'll see if there's any mac 'n cheese or ramen noodles around here or something, I'm famished," she said as she began rummaging through the pantry area.

"You guys can fight over the other bedroom, I'll take the couch." Francis said, plopping down and pushing his boots off with his feet. He found the television remote, turning on the TV. He scowled. Every channel had nothing but white noise and test patterns.

"Phew! I think I'll have another cigarette." Bill said, the stink of Francis' feet reaching his nose. Bill was actually more content to begin cleaning his M-16. Lighting up another cancer stick, he sat down at the table, pulled some gun oil and a cloth from his cargo pants, and began to work.

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Angela entered the bathroom from the left side patient room after stripping off and tossing her tattered digs on the bed to mark the room as hers and Louis'. She was fortunate to find some towels, toiletries, and a change of clothes in the room's linen closet. The bathroom was very spacious, having been designed for the sick or disabled. The toilet had handles on the wall, and the shower was large enough for two people, with hand rails and a seat built onto the wall opposite the shower head. After starting the shower so it would warm up, Angela stepped in front of the sink, turning on the water to remove the dried blood from her claws. As she finished rinsing, she looked into the small mirror in front of her. The face that stared back was hard from combat, caked with blood and grime, and wore the tired expression of a soldier who'd seen more death than any person should. Quickly, she threw some water on her face and washed away what she could. Once that was done, she decided to assess her current physical condition more closely. As a doctor, she would have to perform all sorts of tests to record the exact effects the virus had on her body, but as a woman, she simply needed to reassure herself that she was still sexy.

The body is a temple, and Angela prided hers on being worship-worthy. Angela had been a chubby kid, so she grew up with many years of teasing and verbal abuse from her classmates. As a result, she threw herself into numerous after school activities (mostly sports) to keep herself trim. Even after medical school, she made certain to eat healthy and kept herself in shape with a rigorous exercise program. Her creamy complexion and wrinkle-free face was from keeping out of the sun as much as possible. Her soft blond hair and vibrant green eyes were nature's gifts from her mother, and she attributed her steady surgical hands to her father's calm demeanor. Now, her smooth yet tough skin was as gray as a rainy day. Her beautiful blond hair had become a matted platinum white mess, and her gorgeous green eyes had turned a sickly glowing amber. And her hands… her hands had become instruments of destruction. She would have to be so careful not to scratch Louis whenever she wanted to hold or hug him. Her skills as a surgeon were pretty much wasted. She couldn't even pick up a pistol with these long claws, let alone a scalpel.

Thankfully most of her body had retained its human-like form. _"At least I still have my curves," _she thought, looking herself over and running her palms over her body. Her arms felt toned and more muscular from all the 'physical exertion' she'd had in the last several hours. She traced her palms over her shoulders and down her front. She cupped and lifted her ample breasts. They still felt firm and perky, jutting proudly from her chest. Her nipples had turned a darker gray, but she noticed they were still as sensitive as ever. Traveling further, her palms flowed over her firm stomach, then around to her lower back. Sliding over her heart-shaped rear, she continued her journey down her thighs and calves feeling the same (if not more so) toned muscle mass that had formed from many hours of tennis and kickboxing. Sliding her palms slowly back up to her body's pleasure apex, she looked down to see the same platinum white colored hair between her legs that adorned her head. The joints of her thumbs rubbed against her 'crowning glory,' sending an involuntary shiver of pleasure up her body. A sultry moan escaped her pursed lips at the accidental stimulation. Angela had spaced out for a moment, imagining Louis' hands rubbing and teasing her into a sexual frenzy. She shook her head to bring herself back to reality; until now she hadn't realized how much she missed his touch.

She choked down a sob. It didn't matter. Louis would never find her attractive now. She had become a vicious, hideous, gray and white Halloween monstrosity that invaded children's nightmares. "All I need is the pointy hat and broomstick," she whispered with a half laugh-half sob to no one in particular. The reality hit her hard that she may never get her physical appearance back, and she began crying, placing her clawed-hands on the sink and looking down as the mirror fogged over with steam from the shower. As Angela's tears ran down the drain, taking her confidence with them, she decided she may as well get clean. Better to be a clean freak than a dirty one, after all. As she stepped into the shower, the door to the bathroom slowly creaked open, unnoticed by the depressed doctor.

A/N: Again, please review (anonymous as well). Do you want more? Less? Let me know.


	7. Reprieve Before Judgement

_Disclaimer: Yet again, I only own Angela and sub plot. Valve claims the rest._

A/N: This chapter is more like picking a ripe lemon off the tree and eating it raw. So again, if that's not your thing, don't read it. Anonymous reviews welcome as always. Show me the love people.

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_Chapter 7 – Reprieve Before Judgment_

Louis looked around as everyone began settling into some kind of mind-occupying task. Francis, unable to find anything on the television, decided to work on polishing his boots. Zoey was busy boiling water for the ramen she'd found, while rummaging through the fridge looking for anything that hadn't spoiled. Bill already had his M-16 completely disassembled, and was busy cleaning the barrel and star chamber of the rifle with an extendable cleaning rod.

It all made perfect sense to Louis. The situation everyone found themselves in was simply too amazing, too horrifying, too surreal to process right now. All the unanswered questions would have to wait if they wanted to hold onto their nerves long enough to make it to the rooftop. The best way to keep their minds from thinking too hard would be to focus on performing a relatively mindless, repetitive, enjoyable task. Sighing inwardly, his thoughts turned to Angela. Her personality was that of a brilliant doctor, a constant thinker. She was by far the most affected by all of this, and there was nothing she could do that would keep her preoccupied from analyzing herself into a depression.

Louis froze, a very mischievous smile slowly creeping across his lips. He knew exactly what kind of 'mindless, repetitive, enjoyable task,' he'd like to perform. And he was fairly certain Angela wouldn't mind the 'distraction.' That is, if her vanity would let him near her….

Clearing his throat, Louis addressed the group. "Guys, I'm going to get my room set up; make sure the bed is made and what not. I'm exhausted," he punctuated this with a somewhat forced yawn. His comrades looked at him, then at each other, then they burst out laughing.

"Damn, Louis, you're a shitty liar! There's no way you're ready for marriage!" Francis said, dropping his boot and laughing so hard he put his head down on the table. The dark man began to blush as the rest chimed in.

"Why would you bother making the bed when you know you're just gonna mess it up again?" Zoey asked giggling, arching her eyebrows slyly. "Just keep it down or Bill might have a flashback and think you really are being ripped apart and have to come save you."

Bill scoffed at Zoey, "I think the only thing that will be ripped apart is Louis' clothes. And I'm not about to bust in for _that_!" Everyone laughed as Louis just about hung his head with embarrassment.

"You guys act like this is going to be easy for me… for us," he said somewhat dejected. "What if she doesn't…mmph!" Louis was silenced as Zoey had made her way over to him and promptly put her hand over his mouth.

"Louis, when we 'rescued' you, Angela was still under the effects of the virus, right?" Zoey asked, it being a rather ridiculous question.

"Ummpphh…. Yeshmh." Louis replied, Zoey's palm still covering his lips. Zoey removed her hand, and continued.

"Of course she was, and even then she was still all over you. So what makes you think she's suddenly going to get a case of 'cold feet'?"

"Angela is a very proud person," Louis answered, "She's always taken great care and pride in everything she does, including taking care of her body. I know she's going to be critical of herself because of her… transformation," Louis said, for lack of a more 'palatable' word. "She's going to be so self-conscious now, and-" Zoey again cut him off.

"All the more reason for you to get in there and show her just how misplaced her fears are," Zoey said with a wink.

"If you don't, I will," Francis said trying to goad him on. Louis took the subtle hint and headed towards the back.

When he was out of sight, Zoey went back to her cooking. "You weren't serious about that remark were you?" She asked Francis as she added the noodles to the pot.

Francis laughed again. "Zoey you really do crack me up. That's Louis' gal, so of course not. And besides, gray isn't really my type," he said, bringing his arms up just in time to block a spoon Zoey threw at him.

………………

Louis crept into the bedroom, quietly locking the door behind him. He noticed the bathroom door was open by a crack, just enough to allow a little peak. Stripping down quickly, he threw his suit into a corner of the room and approached the door. Looking in, he expected to see nothing more than a silhouette of his fiancé through the shower curtain, scrubbing down what nature had given her. Instead, he was treated to a much more erotic sight.

Angela, apparently taking stock of her body, was rubbing her hands all over herself in a very sexual manner. Louis was stunned; he had never seen her do anything like this before. It wasn't as though she knew she had an audience, and the fact that it was unintentional made it that much more of a turn on. Louis salivated as her palms went over her bosom then over her round rump. She bent over as her hands ran down and up those shapely legs, the view giving Louis a rock hard erection. He stared hungrily as her claws came up between her thighs, causing a moan to escape her lips. He was so excited, his dick nearly pushed the door open for him. Figuring he could 'lend a hand' he was about to open the door, but Angela began to cry. He froze, swearing under his breath. She was judging herself, just like he figured she would. Hell she probably thought he'd want nothing to do with her, but he'd prove her wrong very soon. Still, this had to be executed properly. With his fiancé it was all about the mood, and the mood could turn sour if she had even a shred of self doubt. He waited until he heard her step into the shower, then he slowly pressed the door open. It creaked and he expected her to notice, but she was too absorbed in her own self-loathing. Stepping in, he saw the silhouette of his lady love as she tried to wash herself. She had a bar of soap in her hand, but was having a difficult time holding onto it with her claws. She'd drop it, grumble, then pick it up and try again. She did this at least three times before Louis decided she could use a more 'personal' washing. He approached the shower and gently moved the curtain back. Angela turned in shock, reflexively covering herself. Seeing Louis she began to sob and turned away, thinking about her body and how he wouldn't find her attractive.

Louis said nothing as he stepped in behind her and picked up the bar of soap. Lathering his hands he started to rub and massage her shoulders and back, working his thumbs into the muscles. He leaned in close, his lips touching her ear, "You threw a pity party and didn't invite me? That's naughty," he whispered, biting her earlobe. Angela moaned softly, leaning back into his hands, her insecurities beginning to release their hold on her. "Almost as naughty as the way you were touching yourself earlier," he continued, earning a gasp from his love as his hands traveled down her lower back.

"You… you saw that?" she asked, shocked and embarrassed, her gray cheeks developing a pink blush. Louis didn't answer verbally. Instead, he repeated the same path her hands had taken earlier, only he took his sweet time with it. Using the soap, he cupped and lathered her breasts, paying extra attention to her nipples. Angela sighed contently, Louis' washing feeling more than pleasant. He continued down her back, in front to go over her smooth tummy, then back around her hips, squeezing her ass, then running his hands down the lengths of the back of her thighs, over her calves, then around the front and up the middle, pausing just before allowing his thumbs to gently rub and pinch at her moist fuzzy triangle. Angela was breathing heavily, her imagination from a few moments ago becoming reality.

"Please… don't tease me," she moaned throatily. Louis stood up, pressing his manhood between her legs and cupping her breasts in his hands. He flexed himself against her, rubbing his erection across her moist opening. Angela bit her lower lip. She wanted so badly to grab his ass and grind hers into his crotch, but she knew her claws breaking his skin would kill the mood very quickly. Angela gently put her palms over his butt, pulling him closer, and turned her head half around to kiss her fiancé. Their tongues danced with each other for dominance, the passion boiling within them both. Breaking the kiss, Louis placed his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around to face him. The hot water cascaded down her platinum hair, perfectly framing her face. He smiled at the insecure expression she wore. She was one of the strongest, most confident people he ever knew, but when it came to being intimate with him, she was always so shy. This time, however, he realized there was more to it, and he was prepared to put it to rest right now.

"Angela," Louis said, a low, lustful growl in his voice "I know what you're thinking, and I have to admit I'm rather surprised you don't know me better." She looked at him confused, and was about to ask when he kissed her…hard. Angela's words were cut off when Louis stuck his tongue in her mouth and sucked at hers. He pressed her bare front against his, making her erect nipples brush against his muscular chest. He squeezed her tush and ground his rod against mound, causing her to squeal in delightful surprise. When he broke the kiss, Angela was just about panting. She could feel her excitement dripping from between her legs. She loved when he was aggressive like this, as it was a pleasant rarity compared to his normally docile and accommodating personality.

Louis continued, saying, "I remember the time you came home from working a 72 hour shift. You were covered in sweat and blood, you stunk to high heaven, and you still didn't get any further than the dining room table that night with me." Angela blushed and looked away, remembering how much Louis had missed her for those three straight days. She'd hardly gotten through the door when he grabbed her, kissing her passionately as he shut the front door. He'd ripped off her clothes, cleared the table with one arm and threw her down on it, ravishing her over and over.

Louis gently held her chin, bringing her face to his and getting her back to the present. "You are, have been, always will be, the most beautiful and wonderful woman I've ever known, and you're the only woman who can do this…" he gestured to his throbbing manhood, "to me, even after we've been through hell and back." Her lips started trembling. Though he was so sexually excited, his primary concern was about how she felt. He wanted to ensure her that she had nothing to be self-conscious about. It made her feel so loved. "You're not a monster," he continued. "You're my everything, you're my fiancé, you're my Angela." Angela was about to cry again, this time out of happiness. Her worst fears had been laid to rest.

Louis looked at her sternly, his chocolate brown eyes piercing her amber orbs. "No more crying." He said. "The only cries I want to hear are when you're in the throws of ecstasy." With that, Louis began moving down her body, placing a trail of kisses over her breasts, down her tummy, coming to rest on her white garden. Kneeling before his beloved, he reached up to toy with her breasts, while his tongue slid expertly across her love button, the tip of his tongue parting her vertical smile with every lick. Her soft muff tickled his nose, but he didn't care. He needed to taste her. Her womanly charm was like a running stream in the sexual desert and he was a parched man. Angela drew in a sharp breath, biting her lip and whimpering in pleasure. She wanted to be loud, but didn't want to alert anyone else.

Angela was gasping steadily like a fish out of water as her lover paid homage to her body. She loved his oral ministrations, but she wanted him to go deeper. Unable to grab Louis' head, she instead grabbed the support rails in the shower, using them to steady herself as she became weak in the knees. She moaned louder, pressing her crotch against Louis' face as he darted his tongue into her. Trying to get deeper, Louis tilted his head upward as he slid his body forward. His hands moved down to her ass to squeeze and tease her, his fingers sinking into her flesh as he pressed his face into her. His nose was now rubbing and bumping her front while he sucked her lower lips into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and around. Angela's gasps became louder and more pronounced; she was very close. Louis knew just how to finish her off. He suddenly sucked her love button into his mouth, flicking and thrusting at it with the tip of his tongue.

That did it. Angela felt her orgasm rush forward, ripping a cry of passion right out of her. "Gyyaaahhhh!" She screamed as her body convulsed, releasing her love juice all over her man's chin. He kept licking and sucking at her, causing her knees to buckle. She would have lost her balance if not for the support rails. Louis looked up at Angela, smiling contently. She stared back at him, mouth agape, glowing eyes lusting after his hard body.

"G…get up." She stammered out. Louis grinned and obliged her. Angela took a moment to drink in her lover's masculinity. Though he was a computer tech, Louis maintained a well toned physique by working out three times a week. Thus, he had a muscular chest and well defined arms. His stomach, though lacking a six pack, was more than enough for her, being firm and smooth. His legs were also well defined, from the two of them playing tennis nearly every weekend, both of them desiring outdoor activity after working inside all week.

With a growl, Angela pushed him back causing him to fall onto the shower seat. She keeled in front of him, tenderly grabbing his shaft in her claw, preparing to show her own appreciation. Louis smirked, liking where this was going. "Gonna make you empty these big balls, baby," she whispered, breathing hotly on the head of his manhood before engulfing it in her wanton mouth.

"Oh yeah, suck it Angel," he moaned. 'Angel' was Louis' pet name for Angela when they were intimate. A clearly ironic nickname since she was more of a horny devil in the bedroom, or wherever they happened to be having sex. Angela's hair fell around her face as she pleased her man. She bobbed up and down slowly at first, letting her tongue trace along the veins and ridges. Louis moved her hair out of her face; he loved looking at her while she pleased him. She looked up at him with an innocent look, as if to say, "Am I a good girl?" He didn't think he could get any harder, but that look proved him wrong. He leaned forward to cup her breasts and pinch her nipples some more, earning another mewl of approval from her. Staring past her shoulders, he could see the water splashing off her supple ass. As hot as all this was, he didn't want to finish like this. "C'mere Angel," he moaned.

"Uhh…uhhhhhhhmmm. She mumbled in a teasing negative tone, sucking him harder. She was determined to swallow his load. She looked up at him smiling mischievously, tickling the tip of his pulsating rod with her tongue. He let out another groan, sliding his hands into her hair to pull her up, but she would have none of it. Bobbing up and down faster and faster, Angela thrust her tongue along his shaft. Louis gasped, clenching his eyes, on the edge of eruption. "Angela… I'm… gonna…" then his whole body tensed, and with a groan of release, Angela felt his hot seed fill her mouth.

"Mmmmm," she moaned, swallowing his load while slowly pulling off his shaft. She looked at him, a small dollop of his essence sliding from the corner of her mouth. Smiling seductively, she licked her lips to get the errant drop trying to run down her face. Louis' manhood, still hard even after such an incredible blow job, twitched in excitement; he was far from finished.

"Come up here baby," he said, a rumble in his voice. Angela rose to her feet, putting a claw to her lower lip and smiling at him coyly, acting like she had no idea what he wanted. "Sit on my lap, like a good girl," Louis commanded, clearly getting into the role. She giggled, placing one leg up on the seat and began lowering her love nest onto her lover's pole. The head pressed into her, causing both to gasp and grit their teeth. Louis could never get over how tight Angela always was, no matter how wet she got, and Angela still couldn't get used to the size of Louis. It was slightly uncomfortable at first, but it would always end up with her wanting more and more of him pumping into her. She sat on his lap, savoring the feeling of him filling her. Once she adjusted to the large invader, she brought her other leg up onto the seat, Louis placing his hands on her ass to support her.

Angela loved this position, with her hands about his shoulders so she could rub and buck on him like a cowgirl riding a prized bull. She went to grab his shoulders to start the 'rodeo' but paused, worried her claws would hurt him.

Louis looked at her, half gasping in fevered anticipation. What was she waiting for? He saw her claws, and her concerned expression, then nodded, "Go ahead baby; I'll let you know if it hurts. Grab on, 'cause Louis the Bull is gonna 'buck' you hard!"

Angela smiled wryly, flexing her muscles to squeeze her man's shaft as she gently placed both claws over his shoulders. Grabbing mostly with her palms, she slowly started rocking back and forth on him. She leaned forward, her tits dangling near his face. Louis reached up and squeezed her breasts, sucking both nipples into his mouth at once. Angela groaned, her eyes nearly rolling into the back of her head; she loved when he did that. He began thrusting up into her, matching her movements, causing Angela to moan louder. Both established a rhythm, pumping their hips together with a steadily increasing tempo. Angela was squeezing his shoulders harder, her claws beginning to dig into Louis' skin. He hardly noticed; the 'ride' was more than worth it. Louis growled in excitement, pushing up harder and faster, nearly bucking her off his lap. As he sped up, he found himself slipping off the shower seat. Pausing for a moment, he used the rails to get his body back into position to continue the ride. This happened a couple times interrupting their sexual rhythm before both lovers locked eyes, reading each others' minds.

With a grunt of lust and exertion, Louis stood up, his hands under Angela's ass as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. She cried out in surprise as the change in position caused her lover's throbbing erection to poke at her cervix. Louis' arm muscles pulsated as he repeatedly impaled his angel onto himself. Angela was gritting her teeth, it hurt yet it felt so good. She had been trying to keep her pleasured noises to a minimum, but this was too much. Between the position and watching her man behave like a real stud, fucking her standing, she simply couldn't keep quiet.

"Ahhh! Ahhhh! God, yes!" she cried, throwing her head back, feeling her second orgasm flooding forth. She held him tighter, wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling herself against him, and biting at his neck. Her entire body was trembling, but she still wanted more.

"Bedroom?" Louis gasped while nibbling at her earlobe.

"Yeah…" she moaned into his neck, her second climax rapidly being chased by a third.

Louis ripped the curtain aside and stepped out of the shower, not bothering to turn it off. The two lovers kissed feverishly as Louis carried Angela over to the bed. Keeping himself within her, he laid her on top of the blanket and pinned both her claws down with his hands just above her head. He gazed at her sexy face, never getting enough of his love's visage of desire when she was so turned on.

They were both dripping wet, between the shower and their own passionate sweat. Louis kissed and sucked at Angela's supple lips while pumping into her so hard the bed bumped the wall. Angela hooked her ankles together around his ass, pulling him into her with every thrust. Both were crying out with each stroke, the physical intensity rapidly escalating. They were approaching the edge like two lovers preparing to take the jump together. Although Louis already came once, his second orgasm was already right behind the first. "Angela…," Louis warned, with a gasp. Reaching his limit, he was preparing to pull out.

Angela responded by squeezing him harder with her legs and grabbing the bed sheets with her claws, twisting them in her grasp and effectively ripping them. "Don't stop," she gasped, staring him in the eyes. "Come in me baby," she panted, so close she could taste it. Louis stared into those amber orbs, and seeing the wanton desire within drove him to the top. "Give it to me," she pleaded huskily, about to peak with him, "Give it alllllllllllllaaaaaaaggghhhhh!"

And with that both lovers screamed as their orgasms crashed together like two colliding trains. Angela arched her head backwards as she cried out, feeling Louis' seed warm her all the way up to her naval as it filled her womb. Louis eyes clenched as he roared, it felt as though she had milked him dry, her contracting muscles still squeezing on him as his torrent subsided. He collapsed on top of her, breathing her scent and feeling both their hearts beating together. Angela let out a very satisfied purr, her legs loosely entwined around her lovers', keeping him inside her. Delicately, she placed her clawed hands on his back, splaying them just like the first time she held him. Feeling a little chilly from the shower, Louis pulled the top cover around them both like a sleeping bag. Louis kissed her tenderly, sliding his hands under her shoulders, savoring the afterglow of such an incredible orgasm. Sleep, having been placed on the back burner for long enough, finally took its toll on the two lovers.

"I love you." They said in unison, slowly falling into blissful slumber together.

……………………

At the same time Louis and Angela were practicing for their honeymoon, Bill, Zoey, and Francis were all sitting down to a meal of ramen noodles, courtesy of the college student. She insisted they take a break to eat, as Bill had already cleaned both his rifle and Louis', and if Francis polished his boots any harder he'd wear holes in them. Now she was regretting asking them for a quiet meal together, since there was nothing quiet coming from the back of the room.

"How long's it been?" Bill asked slightly annoyed, getting an arched eyebrow from Francis.

"I'm _not_ keepin' track, old man." Francis replied, drinking his ramen straight from the bowl in a couple large gulps. "That would suggest I _want_ to hear them gettin' it on." Staring at the table like a kid who'd been denied dessert, he mumbled, "I hate sex when I'm not getting it."

Zoey rolled her eyes. "Ah give it a rest, both of you." She said bringing a spoonful of noodles to her lips, determined not to let this ruin their meal. "They're two people in love, and…" she was cut off by the distant sound of Angela crying out in ecstasy yet again. She threw her spoon down on the bowl, and buried her face in her hands.

"If only I'd called dibs on the shower first…." She mumbled dejectedly.

…..

A/N: Yeah they did it. I didn't make them, but even if I did, I wouldn't regret it! Review folks!


	8. Inner Demons

_Disclaimer: I own Angela and sub-plot, Valve owns the rest._

A/N: I've had more great reviews and I couldn't be happier, but all you anonymous readers seriously need to show the love. All good things must come to an end, and this story is no exception. This isn't the last chapter, but we will be wrapping up soon. I hope you're all enjoying it. I've had a blast writing it.

_Chapter 8 – Inner Demons_

When the noise had finally died down, Zoey went back to check on the two lovebirds. Cutting through the bathroom, she peeked her head into the adjoining bedroom. She smiled as she saw them both passed out in the bed, snuggled with the top blanked wrapped around them. Hearing the shower was still running, she took the opportunity to get clean herself before all the hot water was gone. Shucking her clothes and stepping into the shower, she noticed claw marks near the handrails on the walls. Shuddering at the mental picture, she washed herself with haste, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible. After cleaning herself up and dressing, she went back out to let Bill and Francis know the shower was available. Bill was fast asleep, head down on the table with his noodles pushed to the side. Francis was stretched out on the couch, snoring like a chainsaw going through petrified wood.

"_How the hell can Bill sleep through that? Then again, he's probably slept through artillery strikes."_ Zoey thought to herself. Sighing, she went to the other bedroom and shut the door. Disrobing, she tucked herself in and placed her pistol by the nightstand, hoping to get at least a little rest before the rain stopped.

-----

Angela's eyes slowly fluttered open as she awoke. Yawning quietly, she first noticed warmth on and within her body that was very pleasant to wake up to. She smiled seeing Louis laying atop her, still within her from earlier, and still sound asleep. She hated to wake him, but it sounded like the rain had stopped, and it was time to get going. She kissed him tenderly, several times before he groggily opened his eyes.

"Mmm… is it morning?" He mumbled, somewhat disoriented.

"No baby, it's only been a few hours, so actually it's closer to the middle of the night." She said, sitting up after he reluctantly rolled off her. The two looked at each other longingly, realizing this would likely be the last moment of peace they would have together before facing the armies of death once more. "Honey, can you please get me another pill?" Angela asked. Louis went over to his crumpled clothes and retrieved more of the wonder drug, handing it to her. He then went to the bathroom to grab a towel for Angela, having noticed her hair was still thoroughly soaked from earlier. Returning, he walked behind her and dried her hair affectionately. She enjoyed the attention, but suddenly a frightening thought went through her mind.

"Louis," she said, fear and trepidation in her voice. "We… we had sex…"

"Damn good sex I might add," Louis said with a wry grin as he finished up. Angela turned around to face him, a very concerned look etched across her pretty gray face.

"No Louis, I mean we had unprotected sex! I'm infected! My drugs won't stop the virus from spreading to other people! I've just given you this disease!" She said, an audible quiver in her distressed voice. She couldn't bare the thought of Louis turning into one of those vicious creatures. "You need to take one of those pills now!" She said, going for his clothes. "It may-" she was cut off as Louis grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms.

"Sweetie, first off I'm immune. In fact, so are Bill, Zoey, and Francis." Angela stared at him wide-eyed, processing this. "The whole reason the four of us made it this far is because of our immunity. We've all taken scratches or bites and had the horde's blood splattered on us over the last several hours. I've read your notes, and none of us have any of the symptoms of MR-1. If we weren't immune, all of us would be shambling around with the rest of the rabble by now, so don't worry. Second, even if I wasn't immune I wouldn't care. I almost lost you once, and I don't want any regrets that we didn't live our lives to the absolute fullest."

Angela grinned ear to ear. God, this man never stopped being sweet. "Well," she said reluctantly, looking away shyly, "much as I don't like the idea of you throwing your life away for me, it is very sweet… damn stupid, but sweet." He smirked at her. "But that aside, you four _must_ survive for the sake of the human race!" Louis glared at her. "Ok, I mean the _five_ of us must survive," she said, rolling her glowing eyes. "Seriously Louis, yours and their blood hold the key to synthesizing a vaccine! With the four of you, doctors may even be able to come up with a cure!"

"Honey, believe me I have no intention of letting _you_ down, let alone the rest of humanity." He said, kissing her. "C'mon let's get dressed, I'm sure the rest are ready and waiting."

The two dressed hastily, Louis getting back into his suit, there being no other clothes that would fit, while Angela put on a pair of fresh scrubs she'd found in the closet. They were light blue and form fitting, Angela having deliberately chosen a smaller size because the baggy clothes could be a liability if they snagged something, or if _something_ snagged them. As Angela exited the room, Louis saw her old ID badge with her tattered clothes. Not thinking twice, he snatched up the badge and tucked it into his pocket. It meant a lot to the systems analyst. To him, it's scratched exterior represented that although Angela had changed on the outside, her identity, who she was in the inside, had not.

In the main area Bill, Francis, and Zoey were already preparing for the final trek to the roof. "'Bout time you guys joined us," Francis said, smirking at Louis. "Bill cleaned your gun for ya so you could 'sleep in.'"

"It's called a rifle, Francis." Bill said, correcting him and cocking an eyebrow at Angela. "The only person who had her hands on Louis' 'gun' was…"

"All right all right!" Angela snapped, her face beginning to flush. "Yes we had sex, and I'm sorry if you guys heard it. Sheesh!" She ran her claws through her hair as though she were untangling it, a classic sign she was nervous and embarrassed.

"Geez Bill, have some tact! I'd expect that crap from Francis, but you?" Zoey said, giving Bill a stern look. Bill looked down and Francis cleared his throat. Angela smiled at Zoey, a silent thanks for sticking up for her.

"Anyway ladies," Francis said, addressing everyone. "It's time we blow this pop-stand. Let's get to the roof."

The five opened the reinforced door to the stairwell. As they ascended the stairs into the last hallway, they could see very little 'traffic' in the way. Things were almost too quiet.

"Ok, everyone keep to the sides, check those rooms for any surprises." Bill said. "Angela, you watch our backs for any we miss."

The others nodded and the group made their way down the hall. Several rooms had a few infected, but it was nothing a few 9mm bullets couldn't handle. As they passed a set of double doors on the right, screaming and shouting could be heard within.

"Uh oh," Louis said. The infected were banging on the door, and the tight quarters meant they'd be mobbed immediately, which often meant shooting around blindly, which in turn meant someone could take friendly fire. Suddenly, part of the door shattered, and several angry arms and hands reached through. "Quick! Down the hall! The elevator shaft must be up ahead!" The five ran for the elevator, spotting a vent just large enough for them to crawl through. The infected burst through the door and were on their way. Angela and Zoey made their way through while the other three kept the mob at bay with enough distance between them.

Zoey went through first, spotting the emergency ladders within the elevator shaft. Looking up, she saw a small hole in the roof where a few of the stars still visible in the sky were shining through. "We can get up through here!" She said, picking off a few infected on the second landing. The men had finished with the horde and were coming through the vent as well. The five climbed both ladders and were rewarded with a view of what was left of the Mercy Hospital rooftop.

The wind was blowing in hard, intermittent gusts up on the roof, the aftermath of the storm that had just passed. It would be more difficult to hear subtle noises, so the group would have to be on their toes. Several smaller building like structures adorned the rooftop. Most of them likely held backup generators or were enclosures to the various elevator motor systems or air conditioning HVAC units.

"There's the landing pad. Looks like a war zone," Bill said gruffly. The landing pad was just below the survivors, and it was crawling with infected. Part of the pad itself had caved in from God knows what, but it was doubtful the helicopter pilot would actually land anyway, as it would give the infected a chance to swarm the chopper and ground it permanently.

The survivors dispatched the infected on the pad, then descended. To the right, a metal ramp led down to the main part of the roof, and just ahead of that was a larger structure which appeared to have been the last stand for a group of unfortunate survivors. The five looked on squinting, seeing several bodies brutally smashed, beaten, or ripped apart along the outside and upper part of the building. One infected appeared to be sitting, hunched over in front of the double doors. Using her scope, Zoey was able to get a closer look at the carnage. "Mounted gun on that building," she said, noticing one unlucky soul slumped over it backwards. "I see first aid through the double doors and a radio!" She said excited, then without warning her voice went as cold as death itself. "Oh no…."

"What?" Angela turned to her, seeing the very fearful expression on the girl's face.

"Witch." She said as though she were saying the dirtiest of words. There, by the double doors, was a huddled, hunched over female figure. Zooming in, Zoey could make out the white hair and claws on one of her hands. Bill pulled a small pair of binoculars from his belt to see for himself. It was nearly impossible to hear her with the wind blowing, so it was no surprise she'd gone unnoticed until now.

"So what do we do?" Zoey asked no one in particular while looking squarely at Angela. Francis looked at Zoey like she was loony, Bill simply stared as if in thought, Louis looked at Angela, wondering how she'd react, and Angela simply looked at the group, not fully understanding the magnitude of the situation.

"What do you mean what do we do?" Francis said surprised, cocking his shotgun for effect. The rest turned to look at Angela.

Angela scowled at the group. "Guys, can you fill me in here? You're all looking at me like I'm the punch line in a really sick joke. What's a witch to you guys anyway?" She asked, her memory not recalling the first surprise meeting she had with the survivors. "I don't see her standing over a cauldron."

Bill and Louis exchanged glances. Nodding, Louis took the binoculars from Bill and handed them to Angela. She held the pair in one large claw and looked over at the sobbing figure. The light from within the building clearly illuminated the miserable creature. Angela could see a very sad woman with white hair, claws like swords, gray skin. As if the witch could sense their presence, she turned her head in the general direction of the survivors. Angela gasped, seeing the same glowing amber eyes that stared back at her from the mirror. She began to tremble as though death's hand had just brushed her heart.

"Oh… my… God." She stammered in disbelief. The witch had gone back to sobbing, and Angela looked at the bodies. There were at least ten people brutally butchered, with slashes and gash marks adorning them. One male near the radio still had his hand on the microphone, his throat completely ripped open, his head barely hanging onto his bloody stump of a neck. The man at the mounted gun looked as though he had just turned around and been stabbed in the gut. Just next to the double doors was a woman, probably barely past her teens, her face slashed across the eyes and her mouth slit at the corners, effectively giving her a literal 'grin' from ear to ear. The other bodies were decimated in a similar fashion, scattered about the building where they fell. Angela looked again at the sobbing witch, one bloody claw laying by her side.

"No... No no no no no!" She repeated over and over, remembering what she'd done when she turned. "I... I'm not a monster! She's not a monster! It… it's not our fault!" She cried, dropping the binoculars. As if her cries were carried on the wind, the witch at the door took notice and was beginning to stir.

"Angela," Bill said calmly, "you're not a monster, you're our friend. You're also very special. Under any other circumstances, Louis would've been killed when he dropped in on you. Witches are very capable of slaughtering a group of people. They don't like being disturbed, and when they are they charge with a blind fury, slicing anyone in their path to ribbons. We always try to avoid bothering them if we can help it. Unfortunately she's blocking our only chance at rescue, so we have no choice but to take her down."

Louis put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her, but Angela shrugged it away. She didn't need comforting, she needed them to understand. This was not a black and white situation, rather there were two shades of gray. She stared at the four with an angry, yet distraught look. The witch, still sitting, turned to face the five, taking particular notice in the other creature who looked so much like her. Her sobbing had ceased, and the air got eerily quiet.

"You're one of us," Zoey said, determined.

"Always have been," Francis added.

"And you always will be," Louis finished. "You'll always be Angela."

"And what about her?" Angela asked, the frustration and anger in her voice beginning to surface, pointing at the witch. "She's someone too! You can't just put her down like she's an animal!"

Bill sighed, "Angela, remember when you said we're only doing what _needs_ to be done?"

Angela cut him off with a wave of her claw. "I know what I said Bill, but I still have my humanity, damn it." She looked over at the witch, who had resumed her quiet sobbing, and was still staring at Angela. Bill sighed dejectedly. The four survivors exchanged looks, then Louis turned to his love.

"Angela," Louis said quietly. "You're going to try and reason with her, aren't you?" She nodded at him. "Ok, not like we'd try to stop you anyway, but at the first sign of trouble, duck, because we're going to open fire. None of us will risk losing you, period." Angela glared at Louis, a look of 'I can take care of myself' written across her face, but deep down she knew Louis only said it because he cared… they all cared.

She quietly walked down the ramp towards the building. The witch was still crying and still staring at the calm creature walking towards her. As Angela approached, the witch stood, growling threateningly. Zoey and Louis brought their rifles to their eyes, ready to take the shot.

"Wait." Bill whispered calmly.

Zoey kept her rifle raised, simply to see the events unfold more closely with her scope, while Louis picked up the binoculars. To the survivors, it was like a scene out of a twisted western. Two witches staring at each other, each waiting for one to make the first move. A gust of wind blew, ruffling the hair of the two infected but not breaking their concentration. Louis swallowed nervously. He was afraid this would get ugly, and the chance of friendly fire at this distance was very likely.

Angela held her ground, her claws at her side in a non-threatening manner. The witch approached, claws at the ready, an upset and tumultuous frown etched on her face, her yellow eyes taking in the woman that looked very familiar. Angela looked on sadly at the angry infected. The witch came to stand only a few feet away, the growling turning to a low rumble. Angela sensed the turmoil within the witch, turmoil she herself felt at one time. For Angela trying to save this witch was her way of confronting her inner demons.

"Please, don't do this," she said softly. The witch looked at Angela with interest, though the mixed expressions revealed she was fighting with herself, fighting back the urge to attack. Angela extended her claw in a friendly gesture, but it only served to startle the infected.

The witch shrieked, lashing out with her right claw in a rather half-hearted attempt to attack, which Angela dodged with ease. The witch turned, looking at her with an angry yet pleading expression. It seemed there was no way to douse the fires of rage within her, but Angela refused to give up.

"You're in pain. I can help…" Angela was cut off as the witch shrieked and lunged again, still rather slowly. Angela side-stepped her again, and as the infected turned to face her, Angela believed the witch's frustration was not because she couldn't hit her counterpart, but rather because she couldn't stop herself. It was apparent her humanity was fighting a losing battle with the virus, but she was trying desperately not to go fully out of control. A tear ran down the witch's face and the realization dawned on Angela.

She knew what she had to do.

Smiling sadly, she opened her arms like she was offering a hug, giving the witch an open invitation to slice her apart.

"What the hell is she-?" Francis exclaimed, as Bill cut him off.

"Stand down," Bill said, watching. "She knows what she's doing."

The witch sobbed and lunged again, sloppily stabbing towards Angela's exposed midsection. Angela stepped forward, parrying the stab, and in one quick motion thrust her right claw into the witch's heart, effectively extinguishing the rage within her assailant.

The witch's eyes went wide in surprise as the pain hit, then slowly narrowed into a peaceful look of relief. As she fell to her knees, Angela kneeled with her, moving her left claw behind the infected's back to gently lay her on the ground. She gazed into the fading glow of the witch's amber eyes, seeing peace and perhaps gratitude. The witch's lips curled into a slight smile as her counterpart gently and lovingly cradled her.

"I'm sorry." Angela whispered in an unsteady voice.

It was the last moment of peace the gray griever felt before she shuddered and lay on the ground, lifeless. Angela closed the witch's eyes, stifling back her own tears. The time for crying was over. The only way she could atone for her transgressions was to continue working on a cure, and the only way to do that was for all of them to escape. She vowed that once they escaped, she would pour herself into her research and would never stop until she found a cure.

As Angela heard the approaching footsteps of the concerned survivors, she stood and turned to them, an almost stoic expression on her face. Louis, expecting to see her upset, was surprised to see his love wearing such a cold, determined look instead.

"Let's summon the chopper." She said flatly, as she headed for the radio.

---------------

The five entered the last stand for Mercy Hospital. The four armed survivors quickly replenished their ammo and grabbed whatever first aid they could carry.

"Mercy Hospital. Pick up the radio if you are there!" A voice sounded from the radio. Zoey plucked the microphone from the dead hands that held it.

"We're here! We're here!" She said excitedly.

"You made it!" The pilot continued, "All you have to do is hold out until I get there, but first you need to prepare! There should be a mounted gun and other supplies you can use to hold out. No way I can land unless you are _ready!_ Call me back once you've prepared. News Chopper 5 out."

"I say we just do it!" Francis said, fist in the air psyching himself up.

"Wait. Lets look around first, see where the infected could get the drop on us," Bill said, ever the calm soldier. The five ascended the stairs in the back to the roof of the small building.

"Wow, get a load of this gun!" Louis said, moving the dead man off the mini-cannon. It had two large handles with squeezable hand triggers, and looked like it could take down a small army. Francis and Zoey went along the connecting pipes to another building to find a stash of pipe bombs and Molotovs. Tossing an extra pipe bomb to Louis and Bill, the other two survivors rejoined the group.

"Plenty of firepower up here. I say we summon the chopper and make our stand on the roof." Francis said. Zoey nodded, eying a spot above the enclosed stairs from which she could snipe at any special infected.

"Sounds like a plan, but what about Angela?" Zoey said, looking at the doctor. "She'll be in too much danger if she has to go toe to toe." Angela had considered this as well. If she could piss off a tank, other special infected might get the idea she wasn't on their side.

Louis stared at the mounted chaingun and then at Angela. "Angela, why do you take the mini-cannon?" She looked at him wide-eyed.

"You want me to try and fire _that_?" The white haired woman asked incredulously. "I can't even hold a pistol with these claws!"

"True, but the cannon has large handles and big hand triggers. You can fit your claws through those handles, then you just squeeze and wave the damn thing around and let God sort 'em out!" Louis said with a little too much enthusiasm.

Angela smirked, cocking an eyebrow at her fiancé. "Honey I ask you to help me open jars, what makes you think I can handle a gun… err… automatic weapon this size?" she asked, earning a chuckle from Bill. Louis smiled at the fact that Angela had forgotten her new found physical endowments so quickly. Angela paused, realizing her increased strength and enhanced vision would make her the perfect choice for manning the cannon. Everyone would need to be armed, as none of them could risk being mobbed at this point. "What the heck, let's do it." she said.

Louis went down to radio the pilot that they were ready. Angela stood behind the mini-cannon, while Francis took a position on the right building near the stash of pipe and firebombs. His shotgun was worthless at a distance, but he would be able to help with crowd control with the stash of throwing items. Zoey climbed onto the top of the enclosed stairwell and got into prone position, readying her hunting rifle. Louis ran back up the stairs, yelling, "ETA: 15 minutes!" He and Bill took the left and right flank by Angela, covering her where the mini-cannon could not turn.

Yells, shrieks, and other cries of the damned could be heard in the distance. The five waited impatiently, dealing with the unnerving calm before the battle. Then, like an approaching storm cloud, the infected poured in from all sides of the hospital roof. Angela let fly with the mini-cannon, mowing down the main group closest to the landing pad, while Francis and Zoey were taking shots at the infected attempting to climb the pipes on the right. Louis and Bill took the left, holding down the infected who were all trying to climb the building.

Suddenly the stairwell door burst open as infected flooded onto the roof. Louis and Bill turned around to hold them off. A Boomer, seeing his chance, climbed the pipes on the left and vomited all over Angela.

"Gaahh! Sick son of a bitch!" She yelled, hastily turning the mini-cannon in his direction and ripping him to pieces. The explosion caught Bill and Louis, who were already being mobbed by more infected and barely holding their own. Angela left her position and began slashing the infected who were overwhelming Louis and Bill. Zoey threw her pipe bomb to distract the group from the bile-covered comrades, while Francis blasted a hunter midair that had just leapt for Zoey's position. A smoker appeared trying to grab Francis from his perch, but Zoey returned the favor, catching him between the eyes and dropping him like a stone.

"Get back to the cannon!" Bill yelled, wiping the bile from his face. "More are coming!"

Angela got back behind the monster war weapon and waved it around, cutting down more infected as they ran. Bullets flew everywhere, catching the enemy in the head, torso, tripping them up at their feet, and in some cases literally ripping them in half at the waist. A red mist was starting to fill the air as Angela waved the cannon back and forth like a gardener watering a rose bush.

A loud roar interrupted the carnage. A tank rounded the corner of one of the smaller structures, looking very dirty and rather roughed up. Spotting Angela, it lobbed a huge chunk of concrete straight at the mini-cannon. Angela looked over just in time to see a huge piece of debris rushing forward to meet her. The slab hit its mark, taking Angela right off the gun and slamming her into the stairwell area behind her.

"NO!" Louis yelled, seeing Angela's motionless legs sticking out from beneath the huge slab of concrete. The tank had closed the distance and was already climbing the building. Despite the gunfire from the survivors, this tank was clearly focused on killing the witch. Bill noticed the tank's ripped pants, realizing the reason for the tank's single-minded determination.

"This is bad," he murmured while firing at the tank trying to draw it's attention with no success. Louis jumped to Angela's defense, firing at the tank, but was swatted like a pesky fly off the small building. He sailed off the small structure, striking the main roof and rolling a few feet to the left of the mounted gun. With a grunt of pain, the systems analyst slowly picked himself up.

Angela groaned, shoving the concrete aside and staggering to her feet. Her strengthened body was the only reason she survived the blow. The tank roared, picking the stunned 'witch' up like a rag doll and hurling her off the building in the same direction as Louis, aiming for the edge of the roof.

Below, Louis got to his feet only to see his love sail over his head, strike the roof in front of him and roll lifeless towards the edge of the hospital. His breath was caught in his throat as he watched her body roll off the side, disappearing from sight.

_"Angela…" _he whispered in disbelief that he'd just witnessed his fiancé's death. The tank leapt over the stunned survivor from the taller structure, landing in front and running in the direction it tossed the witch. It stopped when it saw her fall off the ledge, letting out a satisfied growl. Turning around, it roared at Louis, preparing to pummel the survivor who tried to deny it its prize a moment earlier.

Time stopped for Louis. His friends were firing at the various infected, keeping the mob away from themselves and from him, but for Louis, nothing else existed except he and his fiancé's killer. Within the dark man, a tiny fire exploded into an inferno of rage. Adrenaline rushed throughout his body, and Louis was endowed with the temporary superhuman strength most people only experience when in grave danger. His blood pressure rose like a thermometer on a summer day in Arizona. The capillaries in his eyes burst, turning his white sclera a crimson color. The entire world was engulfed in a red haze, and for a few minutes, the man named Louis was gone. Surfacing within his shell was a creature filled with more strength, rage, and hatred than the darkest, foulest demon spawned from the deepest pits of hell.

"Aaaaarrrrrrrrggghhhhhh!" Louis screamed, running at the tank while emptying his clip. The tank roared and swung for the human's head as he closed the distance. Louis dropped to his knees like before, dodging the potentially decapitating swing, but this time sprang up with both legs, thrusting the butt of his rifle upward delivering an uppercut that hit the tank _hard_ in its mouth where its chin no longer existed. The blow was so forceful the tank's teeth shattered, causing it to stagger back in pain, momentarily disorienting it. Zoey noticed the change in her partner's demeanor and, praying he wouldn't get killed, covered him from other infected while he squared off with the juggernaut. Bill and Francis, meanwhile, had turned their attention to the other charging infected that refused to be ignored.

"_You..." _ Louis roared as he ran forward, swinging his rifle like a bat. The stock cracked the tank hard on the temple, causing it to stagger back further. A hunter jumped in from the left attempting to pounce, but met his doom as Zoey cut him down from her perch. He flew over Louis and crumpled lifelessly on the ground. Louis never noticed. He continued to press his aggressive assault as his rage escalated.

"_Son of a…"_ Louis spat. He held his rifle by the barrel and raised it over his head as the tank stumbled. He swung down violently, delivering a hammer blow to the tank's cranium, causing it to groan and fall to its knees. Louis jumped back a few steps, then ran full speed, leaping in the air with both feet extended, catching the tank in the face and knocking it over, causing it to roll back a couple more yards. Louis landed on his side, but quickly got up, slamming another clip into his rifle as the tank staggered to its feet. Though he was ready to open fire, Louis' mounting rage demanded release through direct contact.

"_BITCH!"_ Louis screamed, charging the tank and ramming into it with all his might. He threw his shoulder into the tank's face, causing it to stagger back further still, teetering near the edge. Shaking off the stars, the tank roared again, more of a gurgling sound as its blood poured from its mouth. It was preparing to lunge forward and strike back at the enraged human. Thinking fast, Louis spotted a propane canister near his feet. Picking it up, he hurled it at the tank, back pedaling a few steps. Reflexively, the tank caught the canister, staring at it in confusion. Louis raised his rifle and squeezed the trigger, whispering...

"Bang."

The bullet whizzed through the night air, piercing the white propane canister. The gas cylinder exploded, blasting the tank off into the night sky, its roar echoing as it fell thirty stories to its death. His humanity returning, Louis ran to the edge of the building.

"Angela! Angela!" he cried, scanning the ledge just in time to see one claw hanging on for dear life. Louis heaved her up with both arms, pulling a semi-conscious Angela into his arms as the rescue chopper roared overhead.

Zoey, Bill, and Francis jumped down, rushing over to the couple while holding off yet another horde. "C'mon we gotta get out of here!" Francis said, blasting a few more charging infected.

"Francis, you take Angela. I'm too injured to carry her on my own. Get her on that chopper. I'll hold them off." Louis said, wiping some blood from his forehead and pulling back the bolt on his M-16.

"We're _all_ getting out of here!" Zoey said sternly at Louis, tears starting to well up in her eyes.

"I have no intention of playing the martyr, just get Angela to safety!" Louis yelled. Francis picked Angela up on his back, he and Bill and Zoey running up the ramp towards the hovering rescue chopper. Angela groaned as she bobbed over Francis' shoulders, wondering what was going on. Her vision was fading in and out and her head was pounding in her ears. She saw Francis hoisting her over his shoulder, then blackness, then a rescue chopper, then blackness, then Bill tossing another pipe bomb and shouting something. She could see Zoey wasn't far behind, though Louis was further back, back pedaling and firing into the swarm of infected closing on him and the chopper. Angela reached for her beloved, then blacked out again.

The three survivors got on, laying the injured doctor on a bench, then took up firing positions. Angela stirred, rubbing her head with her claw trying to clear the spots from her eyes. Louis ran towards the chopper, his panic rising as he heard the chopper's engine whine increase. Suddenly, he felt a pull on his leg and looked down as a smoker snagged him from behind. "No no noooo!" Louis yelled being dragged away from salvation.

With eyes like an eagle, Zoey fired her rifle, the shot hitting the smoker's tongue and freeing the systems analyst. Louis scrambled to his feet as more infected began to close the distance.

"C'mon we're getting out of here!" The chopper pilot yelled as he prepared to pull away.

Angela, realizing that Louis wasn't on board, sat up and screamed, "No! We can't leave my fiancé!" She tried to stand, but staggered from the effects of the tank's blow.

"Just hang on," Bill said to the pilot. "No one gets left behind!"

"The hell with that!" The pilot yelled. "If those infected get close enough, we're all dead. I can't lift off with 50 people on this whirly!" The pilot hit the throttle and the chopper began gaining altitude.

Louis ran towards the chopper, the infected closing in on him like bees to honey. The three survivors fired into the crowd, trying to keep the infected off Louis' tail as he ran. Louis went to jump, hand outstretched to try and catch the last flight out of hell. As the chopper began to drift away, Angela shrieked and dove for the edge, arm outstretched, trying desperately to grab for his hand.

"Loooouuuuisssss!" She wailed as Francis jumped and pinned her body to the chopper floor to keep her from falling out. The last thing Angela remembered before falling unconscious was screaming her lover's name over the sound of gunfire, and seeing Louis's outstretched hand miss her claws by mere inches.

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A/N: Gravity's a bitch. Review! Tell me what you think will happen next.


	9. Arcis de Speculae

_Disclaimer: As usual, I own Angela and subplot, the rest belongs to Valve. There are some other characters here that aren't from L4D so I guess I own them too, but they're modeled after game characters. Either way I doubt Valve will be knocking on my door for this fanfic._

A/N: Everybody still awake? Ready for the big finish? No? Me either. Please review.

_Chapter 9 – Arcis de Speculae_

_Four Months Later…_

The sound of boots and bare feet trudging on the linoleum floor echoed in the large quarantine area. A soldier in standard military gear was escorting a shambling individual for his next physical. The soldier and company approached a heavily armored, metal sliding door. The security camera focused on the pair as the soldier punched the intercom button.

"Dr. 'W'" he said formally.

A pause, followed by a cold, "Yes sergeant?" from the intercom.

"Patient HMA-90.10.31 is awaiting inspection." He responded briskly.

The intercom sighed, "Sergeant what's the patient's name?"

He stammered, looking at the case file, "Um… his name is…"

"Adam," the individual said gruffly but meekly, earning a glare from his escort.

A much warmer sounding voice answered, "Please come in Adam."

The door shifted open with a hiss, revealing a large sterile room with numerous beds, sealed chambers, and a host of medical equipment, most of which one would never find in a standard hospital. Save for the small music player on a desk playing random tunes, the room looked like a high tech laboratory. The two walked/shambled into the room as the voice of the intercom was walking around, inspecting other patients.

The sergeant sized her up. These drafted doctors never followed protocol, and it irritated him to no end. The doctor was carrying a pad and pen walking past each examination area, checking on the progress of several unconscious infected humans that were undergoing treatment. She wore a white trench length lab coat, white stockings, and white dress heels. Her platinum blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her pale white skin almost glowed under the fluorescent lighting. Her white gloved hands tapped the pen against the pad as her bright, unearthly green eyes scanned the monitors for each patient.

Looking up from her work she approached the two. "Sergeant, you're dismissed." She said curtly.

"I have orders to escort the subject at all times due to his… condition." He said, making a stand.

The doctor, growing impatient, walked right up to the sergeant, a growl rising in her voice. "Sergeant," she said, her vibrant green eyes glaring at him, "I'm quite capable of taking care of things should Adam… 'misbehave'?" She asked, smiling at Adam who smiled back timidly. Adam wouldn't dream of upsetting her. She turned back to the sergeant, with an icy stare that would freeze the devil's piss.

The officer glared at her, rather half-heartedly, then at Adam, giving him a threatening look. He handed the bitch doctor his charge's medical chart then left, the door sealing behind him.

Adam looked around the room nervously at the other infected. Though he'd received physicals by this doctor before, it was always in his room. This was the first time he visited her outside his quarters for the examination. The first infected to catch his eye was a huge male with a disproportioned gut. He was so large he took up two beds, and had numerous tubes sucking a disgusting greenish brown liquid from his gut into a collection area. Another bed held a rather tall, lanky looking male with jet black hair and strange tumors on his face. His face was scarred where it appeared many of the tumors had been cut off, but there were still plenty more. Several small fans ventilated the air, as the patient was emitting a strange noxious smoke from his breathing. Adam's jaw just about fell open at the sight of a very large human floating in a stasis chamber. He looked more like a shaved gorilla, missing part of his lower jaw and looked large enough to hurl a bus. Then he saw 'her'.

'She' looked to be in her early twenties and sleeping in a hospital bed with the covers pulled up to her bare shoulders, a very peaceful look on her face. Her hair was bleached white, a stark contrast to her dark gray skin. Her arms were uncovered, revealing two long, large claws for hands. He couldn't help but smile at her; she looked so serene.

"So how are we doing today Adam?" The doctor asked while reading his chart, a very warm and friendly tone melting her cold exterior. Adam completely missed her question, he was too busy staring at the strange female. "Ahem," the doctor said, tapping his shoulder. He turned, startled, and the doctor stifled a chuckle. "I see you've met Eve. She is very peaceful looking isn't she? Unfortunately she's in a coma and we are unsure if she'll ever awaken," the doctor said, shaking her head sadly. "Come now, let's begin the examination." She escorted the patient to an examination table and looked him over. 'Adam' was a 19 year old boy who'd been subjected to MR-1's mutagenic properties. He wore dark blue sweat pants and a matching sweat shirt with the hood pulled over his eyes. His hands and feet were large and feral like in appearance, and his arms and legs had become more like the structure of a wolf, which explained why he was having a hard time walking upright. His arms and legs were wrapped in what appeared to be duct tape, which acted as a brace for the increased muscle mass on his appendages. Adam was discovered when Bill had taken a newly trained squad on a routine supply run. Unlike the other hunters, he was actually trying to avoid the group of humans, choosing to feed on small animals and whatever food rations he could find scattered about. He was selected for capture because of his marked lack of aggression. Zoey, being the expert markswoman, took him down with a tranquilizer dart.

"Umm… ok, I guess." He said in a rough, but shy voice. Dr. W nodded as she performed some standard checks, weight, blood pressure, and the like. Then she removed his sweatshirt, looking over the various scars and spots that were healing over his muscled body. His uncovered face revealed an animal like jaw, with sunken black eyes that lacked an iris or sclera. The pants came off next; she squeezed and poked at his enhanced leg muscles, causing him to twitch slightly. The skin around his legs had numerous stretch marks where his muscles had grown at an accelerated rate. The physical exam done, she gave him back his clothes so he could dress. Once he was clothed, the doctor pulled up a chair, sitting down casually, flipping her blond hair behind her head and crossing her legs as she made notes on Adam's chart. Adam felt rather nervous. She was so beautiful, and he often felt like he'd trip over his own tongue looking at her.

"Your speech has improved." She said, marking the chart. "How about the eyesight?"

"Well," he said, removing his hood looking around the room. "This bright light doesn't bother me as much, but I still feel better with the hood on." He said, staring at her for more than a moment. Catching himself, he looked down shyly, abruptly pulling his hood back over his eyes.

The doctor smiled, her hand raised to her mouth, stifling a giggle. Adam always had a little bit of a crush on her and she could sense it. She figured it was due to the fact that she didn't see a 'mutant' or a 'freak,' when she interacted with him. Rather, she saw a very scared 19 year old boy who's life, much like hers, had been permanently changed from the outbreak. She hated the way the military referred to these people as numbers or objects. They were human beings and deserved respect as such.

"How about the walking? I noticed you still needed assistance coming in here on two legs. It doesn't look like you've been practicing with those crutches." She said, a slight scolding in her tone.

"No I haven't." He pouted, still staring at the floor. "I get around so much faster on all fours now. I don't see the point."

The doctor placed her leather gloved hand on Adam's paw, causing him to look up at her. She could feel the stitching of the gloves straining near her fingertips. _"Time to cut my nails again," _she thought to herself. Turing her thoughts back to her patient, she smiled at him. "Frankly I don't see the point either," she said, understanding in her voice. "We are who we are, but the goal is so you can walk around the civilian areas of '_Arcis de Speculae_' without frightening others and so that you won't require an asshole of an escort," she said with a grin, causing Adam to smile.

Dr. W got up, walking over to retrieve a pair of crutches from a nearby supply area. "Come now. You can do this." She said pleasantly, handing him the crutches and helping him maintain his balance. Adam placed the crutches under his arms and shakily walked around with them. It wasn't very comfortable but it sure beat leaning on some army soldier for support.

"Thanks," He said quietly. "Doctor, why do you wear such thick gloves?"

"Adam, we've been over this before. I burned my hands very badly rescuing a friend from a fire. The gloves are the only way I can work without serious discomfort." She said, nonchalantly ending the conversation. Filling out more information on his chart, she casually walked over to the filing cabinet on the other side of the room, tearing off a carbon copy from the chart to place in her files. Although the subsequent visits were short, they were still beneficial. Pressing a button on her radio, she summoned Adam's escort.

Afraid he'd offended her Adam started to apologize, when suddenly the doctor fell forward catching herself on the cabinet, holding her stomach and stifling a groan of pain. Adam's concern coupled with his new found instincts kicked in. Dropping the crutches he crouched on all fours and with a signature screech, leapt towards her side in an instant. He stood next to her, his paws on her shoulders as she looked at him with a courteous smile. "Are you all right?" He asked with a growl, his face a mask of worry.

"_Forgot to eat again today, I'm so irresponsible."_ She thought to herself while rubbing her stomach.

She stood, brushing it off. "I'm fine Adam, thank you." She said pleasantly. "Please get your crutches so you won't have to lean on that jerk of a sergeant." Adam obliged, crawling rather quickly to his crutches, picking them up and preparing to walk upright again. His escort came through the door, and Adam reluctantly hobbled over to him.

"Here you are, sergeant." The doctor said in her typical cold voice, handing over the case file with her updates. "Adam is progressing quite well. He should be fit for the civilian area in a few days."

The sergeant nodded, taking the case file and mumbling under his breath as he escorted his charge out. Adam looked back once more at the doctor, then stared rather longingly at the unconscious witch named Eve. The sergeant noticed, roughly turning him back in the other direction as they left. As the doors shut, Angela spat out, "Prick!" hoping the sergeant heard her.

She sighed, the soft music in the room being the only thing that kept her calm in moments like these. The song playing was a 1990's selection, 'Every time it Rains' by Ace of Base. It was so beautiful, yet so depressing. It reminded her of the time she spent with Louis in the Mercy Hospital safe room. The rain, much like their troubles, had been temporarily shut out. It was their last peaceful moment before the rooftop evacuation. "God I miss him so much," she said quietly, her eyes watering as she held her stomach, another pain spiking from within. She went to a supply closet to find something, anything that would qualm these flip-flop hunger pains. As she searched, her mind journeyed back to when she first arrived here, and how her already tumultuous life was turned upside down in a matter of moments.

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_  
Angela awoke groggily, strapped to an operating table at a 45 degree angle, surrounded by doctors, nurses, and armed military personnel. She blinked her eyes, trying to adjust to the bright lights. Looking down, she noticed her wrists, ankles, and torso were restrained. Thankfully she was still dressed, wearing the same scrubs she'd found from Mercy Hospital, though they appeared to be dirty, splattered with blood, and torn in a couple places. That was when she noticed the pain. "Ohh… my head. What happened?" She thought. Her head was pounding like jackhammers on pavement. _

"_Draw some blood from that specimen please." One of the doctors said to a rather nervous looking assistant. She approached Angela with caution, an empty needle in her hand. She hadn't noticed Angela was awake, in fact none of them had. Angela saw the nurse's hand was shaking visibly as she brought the needle to her gray arm. She was about to try and draw blood from her muscle. That wouldn't do. She decided to save the nurse, and her arm, the trouble._

"_You're aiming a bit high." She said casually as though she were discussing the weather. The nurse yelped in surprise, dropping the needle like a hot pot and hastily stepping back while the other people in the room all turned at the sound of the new voice. Everyone stared at her, and one could hear a pin drop amongst the silence. "What? She was about to draw blood from my bicep. She would've missed my vein by a good couple inches." Angela continued. One of the doctors began scribbling notes, then approached her, two armed men flanking him._

"_You can talk?" He asked, somewhat surprised._

"_I could sing, dance, and bake a cake too if you guys didn't have me strapped to this table." Angela said trying to joke and break the tension in the room; it didn't work very well. One person near the back let out a laugh, earning glares of disdain from the others. The doctor, who appeared to be in charge, simply wrote some more notes on his pad. The head doctor whispered to one of the guards, who took off running as though his house was on fire._

"_Do you know who you are, where you are, or remember how you got here?" The head doctor asked, pen at the ready. The others watched in anticipation._

"_My name is Dr. Angela Willingham," she stated, reciting her credentials. "Graduated from University of London medical school at the age of 23, and have worked in surgery, ER, and R&D at Mercy Hospital since then. I was working on developing a treatment for people infected with MR-1." The doctor's eyebrows arched at this new information. "I haven't a clue as to where I am, aside from some kind of medical facility, and I don't know how I got strapped to this table, but I would guess those guards had something to do with it because you all probably think I'm a dangerous witch who will go postal and slash you all to pieces?" She asked with a half- smile. Everyone in the room looked nervous, save the head doctor. _

"_Initially yes, but your claws are no longer a concern. You're only strapped in now so you wouldn't slide off the table. Look at your hands," he said, smiling. Angela looked down to see her claws had been trimmed down to the length of ordinary fingernails. _

"_We had to use a diamond cutter to take those off… hardest substance we've ever seen," one of the assistants said, finding his voice._

"_Umm… thanks." Angela said, looking at her hands. They still didn't look human, but at least she'd have more dexterity. "As far as how I got here… I…" she paused, trying to remember "I… I can't remember. Why does my head hurt?" She asked, clenching her eyes as her head felt another spike of pain._

"_You were brought in with quite a few injuries, a fracture to the skull, two broken ribs, and some bruises and abrasions on your body," the doctor said, leaning in close to check Angela's pupils. "Interestingly though, your bones had already set before we could place casts on them. In fact, it appears that most of your body has healed completely in a matter of several hours, which as you know is completely unheard of. In fact, given your body's rate of regeneration, your 'claws' will likely grow back to full length in a few days. Now, regarding how you got here…" The doctor was interrupted. The guard had returned, followed by a chief medical officer and a one star general. Everyone in the room, save Angela, saluted the high-ranking officers._

"_Gentlemen, this is Dr. Angela Willingham," the head doctor said respectfully, addressing her by title. "She's completely self aware and seems to possess all the cognitive functions and abilities the infected lack."_

"_How is this possible?" The general asked the head doctor. Before he could respond, Angela, interjected, "Doctor, may I fill you all in?" The doctor nodded, eager to hear exactly how this person was the only infected able to maintain her sanity. Angela had a difficult time remembering the details, the blow to her head having jumbled a lot of her memories, but she was at least able to recall her research. She told them about her success in creating a treatment for the infected to hold onto their humanity, and her 'self-testing' after she became infected herself. She recited all the ingredients in her cocktail as well as how to combine them, with numerous assistants writing feverishly. _

_When she finished, the chief medical officer barked to the others, "Well don't just stand there! Get to work on producing this 'cocktail'. I'm certain Dr. Willingham will require more to maintain her condition!" Scrambling like mice, they set off to create these 'wonder pills.'_

"_Well, this is all quite impressive." The general said, looking Angela over the way a cat would eye a mouse. He was a short, pudgy man who resembled something of a political pig. He seemed like the kind of guy who'd stab his best friend in the back for a happy meal or a promotion, and judging by his portly size and rank, he must've had half a dead platoon shoved under his mattress. _

"_Dr. Willingham, we could use someone with your talents on our staff. How would you like to join the US Army's civilian doctor staff here at Arcis de Speculae?" The general asked._

"_Where?" She asked, confused._

"_You're at the Arcis de Speculae, a.k.a. Fortress of Hope military outpost, the last bastion of civilization against the viral outbreak." He said, slightly impatient. "You came here via helicopter with some other survivors."_

_It hit Angela like a ten G-Force deceleration. In a flurry of fast images, she remembered the battle on the rooftop, the tank that had smashed her with part of the 30__th__ floor, hanging on for dear life at the edge of the building. She remembered Louis pulling her to safety. She remembered Francis carrying her, Bill and Zoey covering them. She remembered getting on the chopper, then diving for Louis' outstretched hand. Everyone had made it, except…_

"_Louis…" she half-whispered. Her heart sank and the tears began to fall. The general looked confused, whispering to the chief medical officer, who in turn answered back in a hushed tone. The general's eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed in understanding. Nodding, he turned to Angela._

"_I take it he was someone very special to you?" He asked, his voice filled with the typical faux condolence a person has when comforting someone they just met. "I don't mean to speak for him, but I'm sure he would've wanted you to continue your work," he said, as though he knew the man. Angela hung her head; she didn't want to talk right now. Unabated, the general continued, "If you join us, you'll be able to continue your research. You'll be able to serve your country, serve all of humanity. We'll also set you up with some very nice living quarters, and your own lab. Do we have a deal?"_

_Angela was too depressed to care. She had no idea where any of her friends were, and she watched her fiancé's leap for the helicopter fall short of her grasp, his hand grabbing air and effectively sealing his fate. "What about my friends? Where are they? Are they all-right?" She asked, hopeful._

"_I'm afraid that's classified information, but it would be available to you once you joined our staff…" the general coaxed her, trying to sell the 'job.' _

_Although Angela cared about her friends, the love of her life was gone. Aside from her work, nothing else mattered anymore. Though the general had no place to say what Louis would've wanted, she knew in her own heart that he would indeed want her to carry on. "Sure, why not?" she said dejected._

The general grinned ear to ear, then turned to the head doctor. "_Doctor," he commanded, "After you've run your tests, show Dr. Willingham to her quarters and get her looking like a civilian. We don't want mass panic around the base that an infected is amongst the survivors." And with that, the two high ranking officers left. The doctor and two nurses removed her straps, helping her to her feet, then performed some basic tests. Her blood was drawn, urine sample collected, and the basic measurements of height, weight and the like were taken. Once this was done, she cleaned off in a decontamination shower, washing the dirt and dried blood from her body. She was outfitted with clothing, cosmetics, and other luxuries one would not expect to find in the last bastion before hell. Once she'd dressed, one of the nurses helped her with her new belongings and escorted her to her new 'home.' _

"_We'll need to dye your hair and get you some contacts for those eyes, dear." One nurse said, slightly nervous but hospitable. Angela was still depressed. She'd survived the impossible, but lost the love of her life to do it. "We'll also get you some gloves for your hands," the nurse said, not noticing her charge's lack of interest. "It's of vital importance you look as… well, 'normal' as possible here. You're the first infected to actually behave like a human being, but we don't want to scare the civilians." _

_Angela spat out a laugh, she didn't feel very privileged being the only 'civilized freak' in this military outpost. The nurse set about laying out her room, showing her the amenities. It was like a small studio apartment, with kitchenette and full bed against the wall opposite the door. After the brief 'tour' Angela sat on the bed, staring at the floor. The nurse looked at Angela, concerned, but was distracted as her radio beeped. "Yes?" The nurse answered, placing the small two-way to her ear. Yes she's settling in and appears to be doing just fine," she said, smiling at Angela who stifled another laugh of contempt. "Oh my…" she said, looking at Angela with a very fretful expression. "Yes, I'll tell her right away." She said, hanging up._

_Angela had a half smile on her face. "Don't tell me, I won the house lottery?" She said with a laugh._

"_In a way, yes you did." The nurse said, a very grave and serious look on her face. "Those were your test results. We test for a range of pathogens, diseases, and the like. As you already know, you're positive for the MR-1 virus, but…" she trailed off, unsure of how to continue._

"_What?" Angela said impatiently, getting irritated. She really wanted this nurse to leave her alone. She'd been through hell. Her entire life, like many, had been ripped right out from under her. She'd been turned into something both far more and far less than human. She'd seen the deaths of hundreds, many at her own claws. She'd been smacked around by a muscle bound freak the size of a bus, and she'd watched the only man in her life be snatched away from her by the cruel hands of fate. There was nothing that could surprise her now._

_The nurse took a deep breath, "You're pregnant."_

_Angela's eyes fluttered, then the ground rushed up to meet her._

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A/N: Again, please review folks. It ain't over till it's over.


	10. All's Well That Ends Well?

_Disclaimer: As usual, Valve owns pretty much everything, except the sub plot and my characters (Angela, McGivern, and the CMO)._

A/N: This will be the last chapter, for those who've been awaiting eagerly. Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed, anonymous and all. Special thanks to the few people (they know who they are) who've been constantly supportive. You guys rock. As for everyone who hasn't reviewed yet, if you've been holding your applause for the finale, please show me the love when you're done.

_Chapter 10 – All's Well That Ends…Well?_

Angela patted her tummy, chewing on a couple cereal bars she found in the supply closet. The last thing she wanted to do was starve her baby. "You gave mommy quite a shock back then," she said smiling at her stomach as she ate. She remembered awakening to the nurse fanning her; she'd fainted dead away from the news. A month later she learned that due to the immunity of the father, her child tested negative for MR-1. However, another more shocking discovery had been made. When analyzing Angela's DNA, they discovered her double helix was actually more like an octuple helix. Typical DNA contained two strands twisted together that were joined by bases, forming what looked like a twisted ladder. Angela's DNA had four of these "twisted ladders" entwined and linked together. In essence, MR-1 had not only rewritten, but restructured Angela's DNA. By the laws of science, the very existence of such a phenomenon was impossible. Though she was still mostly human, her increased strength, improved vision, accelerated regenerative capabilities, and other superhuman abilities were all due to MR-1 rewriting her genetic code. The sheer fact she was able to get pregnant and that her unborn child had acquired this new DNA, was nothing short of astounding. It was unknown as to exactly how this would affect the baby, but she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

Angela accomplished a great deal since joining the military medical staff. Thanks to her research and the immune blood of the survivors, a vaccine had been synthesized. A widespread cure was also under development that could be spread over large areas of the country by crop dusters. She was the first to develop and personally test a cure for MR-1 involving a series of shots. It was successful, ridding her body of the virus and allowing her brain to return to a more stable mental state without the use of drugs, however her physical changes and uniquely structured DNA remained intact. There was no way to undo the genetic changes MR-1 applied, as Angela suspected, but at least the infected could return to normal as far as their mental stability without having to take pills for the rest of their lives. As for the physical changes, they would simply have to adapt. She spearheaded the campaign to rehabilitate captured infected and reintroduce them to society. Physical therapy, surgery, and counseling would help a lot of the special infected return to something of a normal life. "Like Adam," she whispered to her tummy as she ate. It was very important the physically altered infected were made to feel like people, not freaks or outcasts, so it was vital they have the chance to interact and work with others. Several of them were volunteering around the base, and she hoped to find a few medical professionals amongst the group to assist her in the lab. She remembered her own desire for interaction when she first arrived. It didn't go very well…

-----

_It took less than a day for Angela to be 'processed', but as soon as she was assigned her ID and granted clearance, she asked about her friends. She had access to a great deal of information thanks to her position, but it came with a condition: The higher-ups explicitly forbade her from revealing her true nature to anyone. The nurses assisted her with dying her hair and fitting her with green contacts. All her clothing was long sleeved, and she selected a pair of beautiful white leather gloves to cover her 'manicured' hands, and matching white heels. Makeup took a bit longer than usual, since her 'base' had to cover her entire face, neck, ears, and forehead. She complimented her faux pale appearance with a shade of dark red lipstick. She looked herself over in the mirror, a final 'inspection' before presenting herself. Her appearance was pretty close to how she looked before becoming infected, but she felt somewhat off not seeing the amber-eyed, gray-faced woman staring back at her; she had grown rather accustomed to her. Smoothing her clothes over, she took a deep breath and decided it was time to pay her friends a visit. It was sheer coincidence that all three of her friends were involved in a debriefing on one of the training areas. She walked onto the open area of the base, passing several squads of soldiers doing exercises or listening to debriefing. She spied an old yet firm, commanding, and familiar looking man barking orders to a squad. She'd heard that Bill was a colonel, but she still couldn't believe it. She snuck up behind him, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder and whispering sultrily, "I love an old, bossy geezer in uniform." Bill turned with a scowl, not recognizing the green eyed, blonde smartass, until she leaned in close and slid one of her contacts aside, revealing her glowing eye. Bill just about fell over on the spot, hugging her tightly, clearly confusing the group of soldiers he was addressing. Regaining his composure, he turned to his squad._

_ "Specialist Zoey, Specialist Francis, report to me immediately, the rest of you: Dismissed!" His squad dispersed as Zoey and Francis rushed over, concerned and confused, until Bill 'introduced' them to the doctor. It was a heartfelt reunion, with hugs, tears, and updates. Bill was recruited immediately, his decorations in the Korean and Vietnam wars not going unnoticed by the military. He was promoted to Colonel and put in charge of training reconnaissance squads. Zoey also joined up as a sniper, from Bill's personal recommendation. Francis joined up too, but only because civilians were not permitted to carry firearms. That, and though he wouldn't admit it, the only place he felt comfortable was fighting alongside his comrades. To him, the world's biggest bar fight was just getting started, and he was determined to chalk up some more points for his scorecard. Angela explained her appearance, and that although she was forbidden from telling anyone, she knew she could trust her friends to keep her secret.  
_

"_It's a shame Louis isn't here," Bill said. Angela froze, looking like a kid who'd just lost her parents and promptly broke into tears as the three surprised survivors attempted to calm her.  
_

-----

"That was one of the worst moments of mommy's life," she said to her stomach, the tiny being within squirming around now that it had food. "Your daddy fought bravely to help mommy and his friends escape the night you were conceived." She sighed, remembering. "Had he jumped just a little higher…"

Her 'chat' was interrupted by the intercom. "Yes?" She said, rather irritated.

"You're needed at the M.A.S.H unit, Dr. Pierce requires your assistance," the off-sounding voice said, curtly.

"The hell? There's no Dr. Pierce and we don't have a M.A.S.H. unit!" She said, storming over to the door to try and catch the prankster before he took off. The military was a real contradiction to Angela. Despite being so disciplined, a number of the officers still liked pulling jokes on the medical staff. As the door hissed, sliding open, Angela's eyes lit up.

"Louis!" She cried in excitement, yanking him in by his collar as the door closed, hugging him tightly and kissing him hard on the lips.

"I missed you too," he said smiling.

"We _both_ missed you." She said to her love as she gestured to her tummy. "You're back early. I take it this base wasn't as difficult as the last one?"

"Nope." He replied. "Nowhere near as many infected, and the servers hadn't been physically destroyed, just without power. So yeah it was a much easier job than usual to get them online. Plus I had Zoey, Francis, and Bill watching my back."

"Much as I dislike the military, I _love _you in uniform." She purred, eying her man up and down. He was dressed in a standard ACU with the typical gray camouflage design. He wore black boots that were polished just so. Two silver bars adorned his black beret, indicating his rank as captain. Louis had proven his worth as a "combat engineer" and a team leader again and again. The rank was well deserved. Angela stepped back, eying him like a piece of meat and wanting to rip that uniform right off him.

She blushed, shaking the dirty thought from her mind then said, "I was just telling our little one about the time we escaped mommy's zombie laden workplace, and how her daddy was bad and didn't jump high enough to grab mommy's hand which sent mommy into hysterics."

Louis laughed, "I take it you forgot to tell her about the part where daddy's hand grabbed the helicopter's landing skid instead?"

"Well I didn't know that at the time, you should've jumped higher," she said coyly. "I was also about to tell our baby how mommy damn near killed 'General Asshole' after grandpa Bill told mommy that daddy was alive but had been whisked off because he was the only able-bodied computer technician and was essentially threatened with never seeing mommy again if he didn't take the job." She looked at her tummy, continuing in a cute sing-song voice, "That bad ole general never told me the truth about daddy because he wanted to take advantage of mommy's emotionally distraught state to get her to work here. And that's why mommy can't stand these uniformed jerks… except for daddy, grandpa Bill, aunty Zoey, and crazy uncle Francis."

Louis laughed hard at that last comment. Her descriptions weren't far off. Bill was pretty much the father figure of the group, always the wise and patient leader, and his rank as colonel backed it. Over the last couple months Zoey and Francis found out they had a lot more in common than a mere zombie apocalypse. At the rate things were going, it wouldn't be long before they'd be considered the proverbial ass-whipping aunt and crazy uncle. As for the general, he was indeed a clever weasel, seeing the connection between the two lovers and using it to his advantage.

"You could take what happened as a compliment. The military needed a brilliant mind that badly." Louis laughed, earning a half smirk from his love.

"I suppose _you _could've taken their little 'offer' the same way too," Angela said, cocking an eyebrow at her lover. Louis sighed, remembering his narrow escape out of the frying pan and into the fire. He'd hung onto the skid of that helicopter for dear life. He'd almost lost his grip when he kicked off a rather stubborn common infected that was clinging to his leg. When he was finally able to pull himself up, he was met with the business end of a shotgun; apparently his friends thought he didn't make it. He almost had his head blown off, Francis nearly mistaking him for a very determined infected. Louis had barely gotten on board the helicopter when he scrambled to Angela's side. She had fainted dead away at the thought of losing him, and nothing would snap her out of it. He held her claw the entire way while Zoey worked on patching her up as best she could with a spare first aid kit. When they landed, military personnel escorted them all off the chopper, and the unconscious 'witch' was strapped to a gurney and taken away to a classified medical area. The four survivors protested, but were met with rifles and a very insistent general.

"I about got myself killed when we landed," Louis said, remembering how he attempted to feed the general his own ass when they tried taking Angela away. "It took three of those guys to restrain me. I remember getting an M-16 away from one of them, then my temple met the butt of some other grunt's rifle." He said remembering, rubbing the side of his head, feeling the scar…

----

_Louis awoke in what appeared to be an improvised cell. It was a small room with a cot, a pot to piss in, a chair, and a metal door with a small reinforced glass window. "Oh... my head. What happened?" He asked himself. "Oh shit! We landed and those army guys took Angela away! She was unconscious, so they might think she's just another turned infected. What if they dissect her? I have to get out of here!"_

"_Hey! Hey!" Louis yelled, attracting the attention of the guard outside. "I need to speak to whoever is in charge of medicine! It's about the unconscious woman they took away!"_

"_You assaulted a one star general; you're not in a position to ask for anything." The guard said, a snarky expression on his face._

"_You don't understand! She's not threatening, she's my fiancé! I need to speak to someone in charge!"_

"_Look buddy," the guard said, getting annoyed, when he was cut off by someone outside the cell. Louis squinted through the door's small window, unable to make out what was going on. The guard sighed visibly, then said, "Looks like someone out there likes you." He said, opening the door. In walked a military officer, and judging by the rank and emblems, he was the Chief Medical Officer._

_The CMO stepped in and the door closed behind him. He was a tall individual in his mid forties, with brown hair parted at the side. Louis recognized him; he had seen him earlier at the landing site when they disembarked._

"_What can you tell me about this witch you're so passionate about?" He asked casually, after removing a small pad and pen from his cargo pocket._

"_That 'witch' as you call her has a name: Angela. She's my fiancé. She passed out when we escaped Mercy Hospital; she thinks I didn't make it! I need to see her!" Louis said, frantic._

"_Son, you assaulted General McGivern, or rather you tried. I have to admit I was impressed by the way you held off three US Army soldiers. One might call it luck, but I would guess you've had combat training before." Louis scoffed. 'Luck' would've been him succeeding in stopping the grunts from taking Angela away._

"_Combat training, in the loosest sense of the phrase," Louis said, sighing. It looked like he was resigned to pandering to this guy if he wanted to get anywhere. "I had to hold off worse than that when escaping Mercy Hospital."_

"_The point, Louis, is you're in the stockade here because of your reckless behavior. However, the general is not completely without sympathy." The CMO stated, pulling up a chair._

"_How do you know my name?" Louis asked, suspicious._

"_The MP's took the liberty of searching you for identification after you… calmed down." The officer said, holding up Louis' work ID, looking it over again himself. "So you are, or rather were, a systems analyst at a large technology corporation? I take it you have experience configuring and troubleshooting large scale networks, correct?"_

"_Yes…" Louis said slowly, not entirely liking where this conversation was headed._

"_Well son, we have a bit of a problem here. You assaulted an officer and we're in a state of martial law. However, if you would be willing to join the US Army as a… 'combat engineer', General McGivern would forget about this little incident and allow you to see your fiancé… assuming she's as 'safe' as you claim she is." The CMO said with a smile._

"_And why doesn't the general tell me this himself?" Louis asked, one eyebrow cocked._

"_Like I said, you did better than any typical civilian. Between us, you gave him quite a scare when you had that rifle to his neck. I'm sure you soiled his pride, or at least his shorts" the officer said, chuckling. "None the less, you're abilities are crucial for us to reestablish communication with the other bases, and I've convinced General McGivern of this. Also, the army keeps most of its data, including medical research, in an underground data storage facility not too far from here. The facility is largely unmanned, but it has gone offline and while restoring power should not be a problem, it may be troublesome to get all the servers online again and communicating properly without a skilled technician."_

_Louis nodded, finally understanding. The CMO couldn't continue his work without that information, but that wouldn't have been enough for the hard-headed general. He had to sell Louis' value to him, which he'd done. Now the ball was in Louis' court. "So, aside from this little 'incident' being forgotten, what do I get for helping you?"_

"_For starters you'll be an officer in the Army with a higher than standard pay grade and a decent set of living quarters, but more importantly you'll be able to see your friends again. Also it may interest you to know that your friend Bill was reinstated… seems like the old guy never stopped being a soldier," he said laughing. "In fact, I hear he's getting promoted to a Colonel. Once the other two," he paused, flipping through his pad, "Francis and Zoey, have received proper training they'll likely be joining you, since it's obvious you all work well together. All of them had your back at the landing zone, even when you were knocked out. Fortunately they were more willing to cooperate. Most importantly, you'll get to see your fiancé."_

_Louis still looked skeptical, and the CMO could sense this._

_He sighed, "Son, if it were up to me you could see her right away. No questions, no bargaining, nothing, but I'm not in charge." He paused for a moment, hesitating. Reaching into his pocket, he removed his wallet and pulled a slightly damaged photograph, handing it to Louis. The young systems analyst looked it over, seeing a picture of a loving family: A husband and wife, with two adorable young girls, each no older than ten. "I lost my wife and two daughters to the infection," the CMO whispered, looking away as emotion threatened to crack his composure. Louis waited in respectful silence until the CMO turned to face him again, "I completely understand how you feel, but I don't make the rules. From one man to another, I'm asking you for your help. If you do this, you'll help us in our continuing struggle to find a cure, and you'll get to see Angela. So, do you agree?"_

_Louis sighed as he handed the CMO back his snapshot of a happier life, "When can I talk to Angela?" he asked._

_The CMO frowned, "That depends on when, or if, she wakes up." Louis' felt a cold hollow in the pit of his stomach. "She had some very serious injuries when we brought her in, and she's currently unresponsive. She must be kept under quarantine and observation, but I can promise you once we've deemed she's not a threat to herself or others, you will be cleared to see her."_

_Louis felt sick. He'd never imagined the combined shock of the tank's beating and her believing he'd perished would put her into a coma, but for all intents and purposes, that's what the CMO made it sound like. However, he couldn't give up. He didn't fight with all his might just to rot in prison. Any chance to see his beloved, no matter what her condition, seemed like a good one. "So," he said dejected, "when do I start?"_

"_Immediately," the CMO said, standing. "Your friends won't be able to join you for this mission, but you'll have a well trained squad to support you." The CMO smiled, handing Louis back his ID before turning for the door. "You've made the right choice, son." And with that he left Louis alone to ponder his decision. _

_Louis sighed. Thinking about everything right now wouldn't do any good... especially Angela. At least he knew they weren't going to kill her. Searching his pants' pockets, he found Angela's damaged Mercy ID badge and held it next to his own. He stared at them both for a long time, praying she would be all right. Louis didn't much care for praying. He believed that God indeed answers all prayers. However in his experience, many times the answer is "no." Closing his eyes, he placed the two cards together and tucked them both inside his breast pocket._

"_One way or another, we'll be together," he whispered.  
_

_-----  
_

Louis shook his head to clear the painful memory, saying "The chief medical officer told me the only way I'd be able to see you was if I agreed to help the army reestablish the servers and other computer controlled communication systems around the country. It was one 'offer' I couldn't refuse." He sighed. Angela pulled him into her arms again, her faux emerald eyes staring into his chocolate browns.

"Looking back on it honey, it was probably a good thing you weren't around when I learned you weren't dead. You would've ruined my surprise." Angela said, remembering herself what transpired after her reunion with her friends…

------

_Angela was kneeling on the ground, sobbing loudly with Bill, Zoey, and Francis huddled around her. Zoey, a look of genuine worry on her face, produced a handkerchief to dab at her tears. Bill appeared completely dumbfounded, wondering what had just happened, and Francis was busy glaring at the occasional nosy onlooker._

"_No, thank you Zoey." Angela sniffled, rejecting the handkerchief, "You'll smudge my makeup," she said with a half laugh. Bill felt like he'd just shot her in the heart. He'd heard of young love being youthful and passionate, but this was a bit extreme._

"_My God, do you miss him that much already?" Francis said, exasperated. He barely dodged Angela's open palm. "Woah, woah!" He said, backing off with his hands out defensively, Angela growling as she rose to her feet. Zoey felt a giggle rising in her throat as the realization hit her. The situation was almost funny. Bill was completely flabbergasted and Francis looked like he was about to shit himself. Zoey started laughing, effectively breaking the tension from Francis and earning an icy stare from Angela._

"_Angela," she said, placing a hand affectionately on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, really, but you will find this funny. Probably not until many a year has passed, but you will eventually. Bill," she said, dropping the formalities of his rank, "I think it's pretty obvious she doesn't know!" Bill slapped his forehead. It never occurred to him that Angela didn't hear about Louis while locked away in quarantine. Angela looked at them angry and confused, her grief-stricken mind still hadn't even considered the possibility that her lover had survived._

"_Angela," Bill said, "Louis is alive. He grabbed the landing skid when we took off. He tried waking you but you were completely out of it. When we landed he assaulted General McGivern because they were separating you two. They threw him in the stockade, so he cut a deal with the military to work on reestablishing some old servers or something at another location so that he could see you again. He left several hours ago."_

"_Yeah we wanted to go with him, but that damn general said we were too 'green'," Francis spat. Zoey had a similar look of disgust on her face at the mention of the portly one-star bastard._

"_Bunch 'a bullshit if you ask me." Francis continued with contempt. "All of us could teach these jar heads a thing or two about real survival and…"_

"_Jar heads are the Marines, Francis," Zoey said dryly. Francis didn't answer. He was too busy staring at Angela, who looked like a bomb about to go off._

_Angela stood there in silence, as though her brain was rebooting. Her expressions were shifting faster than a race car on the final stretch as nearly every emotion went through her mind at once: Relief and joy that Louis was alive, stupidity for not thinking rationally, worry for Louis' safety, questions galore, but the last to take the stage, was rage. A very frightening scowl began to inch across her lips, exposing her canines. "That son of a bitch lied to me!" She hissed, clenching her fists so hard the gloves were beginning to strain. "He lied to me and he blackmailed my fiancé!" Her faux emerald eyes glowed, oh the things she was going to do to that polished turd of a man._

"_Wha… who?" Bill asked, a slight worry in his voice._

"_General McAsshole!" Angela spat, turning her head towards the compound. "He knew! He knew Louis was alive but acted like he didn't. He used it to get me to work here as… as a testament to my fiancé's legacy! And now he's blackmailed Louis, sent him off to God knows where and what if he dies and…" Angela didn't even finish, her words turned to incoherent growls. She looked like a volcano on the verge of eruption. The three survivors saw where this was going._

_Bill reached out with one hand, "Angela, just calm-" but he was too late. Angela shrieked and took off in a mad sprint towards the compound. "Shit! C'mon you two let's get after her before she get's shot!" Bill yelled, the three survivors giving chase to their angered comrade. Angela was much faster than the other three, and she put plenty of distance between her and the three survivors. Though they'd lost her, Bill had a good idea where she was headed. Angela had no trouble passing security checks for most of the base, but the general's office was flanked by two guards. Ordinarily she would've tried talking her way in, but rational thought was often left in the dust when anger was at the wheel. As she ran towards the guards they could tell right away something was wrong. They went for their guns, but they were too slow compared to the enraged doctor. The left guard never drew his side arm. Angela grabbed his head in one hand, slamming it into the wall by the door, rendering him unconscious. The second guard drew his pistol, but she was on him in a flash, swiping his arm aside as he fired, the bullet lodging itself in the oak door. She grabbed the frightened soldier by his collar, slamming him hard into the opposite wall, knocking him out as well._

_General McGivern's head rose at the sound of a shot outside the door. He hastily pulled an unloaded 9 millimeter from his desk drawer. Fumbling with the clip, he dropped it in surprise as the door was kicked right off its hinges, flying into his office. He watched in shock as the solid oak door flew forward to land partly on his desk, scattering his papers and shattering a lamp. Angela, her face contorted into an ugly mask of rage, stormed over the fallen door and desk right up to the shaking general. His attempts to even squeak for help were cut off as Angela grabbed the pudgy bastard by his neck with her right hand, lifting him a good three feet off the ground and holding him against the back wall. As he struggled, she planted her left arm across the general's thighs to prevent him from kicking his way free._

"_You lied to me!" She hissed. Her voice sounded like an angry cobra, ready to strike. Her glowing eyes were a seething cauldron of rage, barely hidden by her green contacts. "You blackmailed my fiancé!" The words slipped off her tongue like venom. The general's face was turning red as he was having difficulty finding his voice, but what could one expect when someone with three times one's strength was squeezing one around the adam's apple? "I swear I'm going to rip out your spine and floss with it for betraying me like this! Taking advantage of a woman in such a distraught state, it's despicable! And blackmailing my fiancé to boot? Did you ever stop to think for even a second that either of us would've helped anyway if you'd just asked!? Did you?!!" She yelled, staring up at him. She could feel his feet kicking against the back of the wall more frantically, his lungs growing desperate for breath. Within minutes he'd be unconscious._

_Bill and company finally caught up, seeing the KO'ed guards and destroyed door. The sight inside the office was frightening to say the least. Francis' jaw fell open as he was about to speak._

"_Christ on a cracker," Zoey muttered, stealing the words right from his mouth. Though she was a bit shorter than the enraged doctor, the college student noticed they had the same build. Yet here she was, lifting a man off the ground who was at least 250 pounds even after a day's worth of fasting, as though he were nothing more than a twenty pound sack of flour._

"_Angela," Bill said calmly. "Remember the witch on the Mercy Hospital Roof?" Angela's expression shifted out of blind anger as Bill's words hit home. "You showed compassion then, show it now." He said quietly. _

_Angela grumbled. She knew he was right but damn, it pissed her off. She dropped the general on his ass who immediately began coughing and gasping for breath._

_Before the distressed general could say a word, Angela got right in his face. "You listen up McGivern, and you listen good. I'm sure you'd like nothing more than to have me executed or exiled for this, but you know as well as I do that you need me here. Plus, Louis and I are a package deal. You toss me out, you toss him out. So here's what we're going to do. First, you're going to give me, or rather Louis and I, larger quarters. If that means you have to knock down a wall, I want it done. Second, you will never, and I mean NEVER lie to me, my fiancé, or anyone else for that matter ever again. If I ever hear otherwise, I swear with my friends as my witnesses, only your dentist will be able to identify your body." The general gulped audibly at that threat. "Third, from here on out, you WILL assign Zoey, Francis, and Bill to assist Louis in his missions." The general's lips pursed, about to spit out a protest, but Angela pinched them shut with one gloved claw. "No 'buts' general. Do it!" The general looked over to Bill, who shot him a very sour expression himself, no help there. Zoey and Francis were also giving him the evil eye, but neither of them said a word; this was Angela's fight. The general looked around, then nodded his head in a resigned manner._

"_Glad we could have this little, chit chat," she said, stepping around the desk and destroyed door as the group left._

"_What the hell am I supposed to do about my door?" General McGivern asked after them, an exasperated tone in his voice._

"_Why not get a carpenter to fix it by threatening to send his kid off to war?" Zoey said, as they stormed out of sight.  
_

_------  
_

Louis nodded in agreement, remembering the surprise quite well. "I think you had a positive impact on the situation," he said with a wry smile. "It certainly was a wonderful surprise to find my assigned quarters had been bumped up to twice the size, and I had a certain sexy roommate." Louis said, grinning mischievously.

Angela giggled, remembering that night quite well. After her little 'chat' with the general, she found she 'miraculously' had access to all the status reports on Louis' team. She knew when he was coming back and his team's operational status. Luckily his first mission left him without a scratch, so she planned a very special welcome home surprise. She knew there would be a number of questions on his part, and she still had to tell him the wonderful news that he would be a daddy, but if all of it waited this long, it could wait a little longer.

When Louis returned to his assigned quarters, he opened the door to find the room completely dark. Nervous, he went for the light switch but couldn't find it on the wall, then something else caught his eyes. There in the dark, like two fireflies, was a pair of glowing amber eyes staring back at him. "Angela?" he whispered in shock and disbelief. The lights came on and there she was, one hand on the lamp. She was standing by the bed in all her beautiful, curvaceous, gray, naked glory, save for a long, two-inch wide strand of red ribbon that she had criss-cross wrapped from the back of her neck, crossing over her breasts, naughty parts, and thighs, much like a makeshift thong bathing suit. Her hair was done up atop her head with more of the red ribbon tied in a fancy looking bow, and she'd tied two more bows to her white heels and around the wrists of her white leather gloves, completing the sexy looking 'present'. She was a welcome (not to mention erotic) sight for the survivor. Louis stared in awe and wonder at his love. She was beautiful, she was intelligent, she was sexy, she was strong. She was his everything, and they were finally together. No more fighting, no more fear, just each other.

"Welcome back, darling," she purred. Louis, overwhelmed with happiness that his love was all right, promptly tackled her, kissing her passionately. Angela yelped in surprise as she was knocked onto the bed, giggling as Louis kissed her lips and neck repeatedly. Few words were exchanged as the couple frantically worked to undress each other. They made passionate love for the rest of the night, christening nearly every spot in their new quarters. The two finally passed out in the bed as the sun was beginning to rise…

-----

Louis grinned, remembering that night as well. "That was one helluva welcome home," Louis murmured, kissing Angela's neck. He scowled, noticing some of Angela's white makeup coming off on him. He grumbled as he wiped his lips, his moment dampened, "Y'know, you'd think they'd have enough of you playing 'dress up.'"

Angela sighed, "Yes it's ridiculous at this point, considering how many rehabilitated ex-infected are stationed here now. Still," she said, looking away, "I thought you liked it, after all it is sort of how I used to look before…"

Louis cut her off, placing his hands on her shoulders, "Angela, I love you for _you._" He said, kissing her again. "Nothing will ever change that. This," he said, removing one of her gloves and placing his hands on either side of her 'manicured' clawed hand, "is you." He kissed her neck where the makeup had been rubbed away, saying, "This is you." He ran his hands into her lab coat, tenderly caressing her firm, subtly rounded tummy. "This is yo… us." He said smiling at her, causing her to giggle. Pausing, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a battered plastic card. "This is you, too."

"My… my Mercy ID badge." Angela said surprised, staring at it as though it was an old, memorable photograph. "I thought I left it in the hospital safe room. You kept it? Why?"

"Because it's more than just a piece of plastic, it's symbolic. It doesn't look the same, but that doesn't change the person it represents. Just like you, honey. You are who you are, and nothing can take that from you. I kept it so I could always have you by my side. From the very beginning, you've always been with me."

Angela leaned in close, tracing one of her exposed claws on his chest, "You don't need a badge for me to always be with you. I'm right 'here'," she said, pointing at his heart and kissing him tenderly.

"All right you two get a room!" a familiar voice shouted.

The two lovers looked over at the door to see Bill in full uniform with a folder tucked under his arm, followed by Zoey and Francis. The three were smiling and walking towards the pair. "You guys are getting soft, you didn't even hear us enter, and I swear that door snap-hisses as loud as opening a beer in church!" Francis said, laughing.

Zoey chuckled, "So that's how you survive the sermons every Sunday."

"How'd you get in anyway? I didn't buzz the-" Angela was cut off as Bill smirked, holding his colonel ID badge. Angela sighed. "Ah give us a break, they keep us both working more than any person should," she said. Louis nodded in agreement. He was on more of these missions lately which kept him away from his love, and her work was constant and tireless. "At least you two get to work together," she continued with a hint of jealousy in her voice while smiling at Zoey and Francis, noticing the way she was holding Francis' arm. Francis blushed, and that just made Zoey hold him tighter.

Bill sighed, "Be careful what you wish for Angela." The two lovers looked at him puzzled. "We have a new assignment, and some new information." Bill led the group to a small table. He reached into the folder and pulled out some photographs.

"These were taken by a newspaper reporter. He didn't make it, but his camera did." Bill said gruffly, displaying the first photograph. It was a frightening picture of a creature that vaguely resembled the hunchback from Notre Dame. It was short and hunched over, but unlike the Notre Dame counterpart, this one had a murderous red tinge to the eyes, very elongated arms with large hands, short fingers, and lacked any sort of lips, permanently displaying its blood-stained teeth. The subsequent photos revealed this creature on the back of a panicked human, steering him like a horse towards a horde of infected. "It's been nicknamed the Jockey," Bill said, "due to the way this thing tries to steer its prey into traps or hazards. A few rescue pilots have witnessed these things in action, but it gets worse," Bill said grimly. Apparently the common infected are becoming smarter. They're learning how to set up ambushes, intelligence we once only believed existed in the special infected."

All of them, save Bill who'd already been debriefed, stared in shock. The wheels in Angela's head began turning.

"All types of viruses undergo mutation; its medicine 101." Angela said to the group. "It's why flu shots are needed every year, because influenza mutates into a different strain the human body is not prepared to fight. It appears that MR-1 has begun to mutate, and if this is true," she paused, her voice taking a cold and frightening tone, "my vaccine and cure would be completely useless against the new strain. In fact, since they're both based off your blood, you four may not be immune either." The four survivors stood silent, the realization dawning on them that this nightmare took on a new twist. "It is imperative to get new samples from these creatures to determine how radically MR-1 had changed, so we can develop a new vaccine." Bill nodded in agreement. "It's also a safe bet that this 'jockey' isn't the only 'offspring' from MR-1's mutated form."

"Where was this creature sighted?" Louis asked.

"New Orleans," Bill said. "Which brings me to our next mission," he said focusing on Angela and Louis. "The five of us are going to New Orleans. Our objective is to capture one of these 'jockeys' for analysis. Angela, since New Orleans is quite a ways from here, you'll be joining us. An extra medical vehicle will be prepped with the basic medical equipment for you to analyze the sample, and to help with any potential… casualties." He said with a tired sigh.

The five friends looked at each other. It seemed fate was destined for all of them to pick up arms and fight for humanity once more. Angela smirked, quoting a song, "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."

"Well then, here's to our new beginning: To New Orleans." Louis stated, putting his hand out. His hand was covered by Angela's exposed claw, then Bill's aged hand, then Zoey's manicured hand, then Francis' rough hand.

**"****To New Orleans!"** They shouted, united.

_The End…?  
_

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A/N: To everyone who's held their applause (or rotten fruit as the case may be) until the end, please let me have it now. Did you like the ending? Would a sequel be welcomed, or should I quit while I'm ahead. All you anonymous readers who've yet to speak, do so now. Thanks again to every member who's been a fan of this story and stuck by me with lots of constructive criticism. You guys are the best.


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